Cold Water
by RhondaStar
Summary: A sad story set some years in the past, what happened between Clarisse & Joe. Based on films Chapter 16 up!
1. Default Chapter

_This story is set when Clarisse is 45, Joe is not yet Head of Security but her personal bodyguard and Rupert is still alive - - just 'cause I was feeling nasty I made Rupert a little nasty too and with a tendency to drink too much. I know this may not entirely fit with Clarisse's description of him in the film but hey "creative licence" and all that!!!!_

* * *

Cold Water

Clarisse stepped into her office and turned to face the man behind her.

"So, tell me, just what is it you wish to discuss?"

"The visit to Rome ma'am, it's important we're both clear on a few things."

"Alright Joseph, just keep it short, it's been a long day."

He smiled as she sat back on the edge of her desk. Nobody else got to see this side of her, he only glimpsed it rarely, but after six years as her personal bodyguard he could honestly say there wasn't much he didn't know about Clarisse Renaldi.

"Of course." She'd spent the day entertaining, or trying to entertain, thevon Trokensand as always, after one of their visits, he could tell the patience level had been pushed to the very limits.

"Alright, may I?" He indicated the desk.

"Oh of course."

She stood up allowing him to empty the file he had under his arm and talk her through some of the finer details of the upcoming trip. The hotel in particular where she would be staying was brand new therefore it was the first time they'd ever used it and Joseph, being Joseph, was being extra vigilant in checking every passageway and hidden door out before they even got there. His attention to detail never failed to impress her.

"You know you're too good to simply work for me, you should be with the King." She commented glancing over the various maps and plans he'd laid out.

Feeling brave he cast her a sideways glance. "I'm fairly happy here."

She smiled feeling his eyes on her but not returning the look. "And I'm happy to have you." She slid her glasses off and stood up. "The plans look fine Joseph there's really no need to go through it all with me, I trust you by now."

"Thank you ma'am." He began to collect the papers up and return them to the file.

"Do make sure you pack well, Rome will be absolutely freezing this time of year." She rambled on as she moved across the room. "I remember one time I went there, many years ago, before Pierre was born actually…"

She was interrupted by the office door swinging open and her husband striding in.

"Rupert, everything alright?" She asked taking in his expression.

"Fine, I just want to request…" he noticed Joe by the desk and stepped closer to her. "You are free this evening?" A statement rather than a question perhaps.

She nodded her head, something wasn't quite right. "Of course, disastrous day with the…"

He interrupted her again. "Good, then I'll find you later. Your suite, about 8:30."

She nodded mutely; she knew exactly what he meant by that.

He kissed her forehead and she almost blushed knowing instantly that Joseph was watching.

When the door closed after him she turned back to the man behind her.

"Well as I say, thank you so much for this."

"My pleasure your Majesty." He bowed his head slightly and for a second she almost forgot herself and was about to beg him not to do that.

"If there's nothing else then I'll bid you a good night."

"Of course, thank you, good night." She watched him leave then sat down on the couch.

If there's nothing else, was there something else? Did she need his protection now, tonight, from her husband? No, she could handle that herself. Why tonight was a slight concern, it had been over five years since Rupert had shared her bed; she thought those days were past. It wasn't as if he had a duty anymore, they had children, she wouldn't be having anymore.

And afterall he had lovers, she knew of them, some by name. She never commented, it didn't matter, they had their friendship, their trust and most of all they worked well together. He had given her a certain degree of power over the years, women had never particularly had that before but Clarisse wasn't simply content to sit in the background and smile for the cameras. She needed to be active, her mind needed to keep ticking over, and Rupert appeared to like that in her.

She was grateful for his insight, it could have been awful, she could have married some old fashioned ogre who forced her to remain silent and willing. Rupert wasn't perfect by any means, he had a tendency to drink too much when he was frustrated and once or twice over the years they'd had some really terrible rows over it. But she'd learnt to avoid those situations, or rather avoid him when those moods surfaced.

Now as the boys were grown, well men really, she found those moods were becoming more and more common. Her husband wasn't well she knew that, but he didn't want to discuss it and she never pressed the matter. As always with him if he had something to say he'd seek her out when the time was right and share it with her. She recalled a time a few years ago when for many months he'd stomped around the Palace with a face like thunder after Pierre's insistence to join the Church but now he had warmed to the idea. She knew he would, it just took time with him, it was a trait he'd had from the beginning and as he'd aged it had simply grown more pronounced.

But he was a good King, a good father and a good husband. And she did love him, she did. If anybody ever asked, which they never did, she would answer them truthfully, she did love him… however she would hold back the fact that she wasn't _in love_ with him. Or attracted to him. Or lusted after him. But at forty-five the chance for those feelings to emerge was long past. Besides she had so much already, what more could she want.

* * *

Nervously she waited in her rooms, 8:30 had come and gone. She'd bathed early, taken tea in her room, changed and waited patiently, attempted to read but given up. Part of her hoped this evening's meeting was simply a private discussion, but the part that knew him well understood what he meant by visiting her suite.

She should be used to this by now – but then how do you grow used to it? Perhaps she had at one point, perhaps when she was in her twenties and expected to bear his children she'd gotten used to the fact she would have sex with him on a regular basis. But now, after so many years of sleeping alone, she'd grown used to the fact that part of the marriage was over. And she didn't miss it in the slightest.

The doors opened and she trembled.

"Good evening." He said crossing the room to greet her, he took her hand and kissed it and she relaxed, it would be alright.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming." She leant forward and kissed his cheek squeezing his arm affectionately.

"Sorry, last minute call from the Prime Minister about tomorrow."

"Problems?"

He shrugged. "Parliament will accept the change and all will be as it should."

He sat down wearily and she took the chair next to him. "Did you want to talk about that or something else?"

She asked hopefully folding her hands in her lap.

"Actually, I didn't want to talk at all."

"Oh."

She leant back in her chair watching him, awaiting his move.

As always he started by kissing her mouth, gently, he wasn't a tyrant but still she felt uncomfortable as he deepened the kiss searching for her response.

He knelt in front of her and took hold of her waist bringing her body closer to his. She'd gained weight over the last few years, just a little around her hips and she wondered if he noticed. Perhaps if she thought of something else, perhaps if she listed the things to pack for her upcoming trip or who needed invites to the Christmas ball or the security for tomorrow's press call or Joseph's itinerary from earlier in the day – oh god not Joseph.

She pulled back abruptly and he stared at her open mouthed, his eyes heavy with desire.

She hesitated searching for the words.

"I can't do this Rupert, I'm sorry." Please god understand she begged in her mind.

"Oh, are you feeling unwell?"

"No, just, it's just…" She really didn't want to hurt his feelings, surely he must know, must understand by now.

He stood up towering over her. "Ah well, nevermind." He said before bending and kissing her head. "See you at breakfast, think I'll go and get a drink."

"Would you like me to join you?" She offered.

"No it's fine." He moved to the door straightening his clothes. "Sleep well my dear."

* * *

She had been in bed for the past two hours, attempting to sleep, he'd thrown her off centre though and her mind was muddled. Surely they'd moved beyond sex at this point in their relationship. She thought he understood her, understood her position.

And then there was Joseph, now her feelings over him were even more at odds. She respected him; he was a good, fair, hardworking man. She trusted him, knew he would be there whenever she needed anything, anything at all. Yet there was no denying the attraction she felt toward him, from the moment they'd met, when he'd been introduced to her all those years ago.

She wasn't stupid; she may not have experienced passion and lust in her married life – that didn't mean she didn't understand what it was. She had been a teenager afterall, at some point anyhow. However to have these feelings for somebody other than husband seemed to her to be completely inappropriate. Yes it was alright for the King to have lovers, expected even, but for a Queen to do the same it would be condemnation.

There was a banging in the other room and she jumped up in bed at once forgetting those forbidden thoughts.

Reaching for her robe she turned the lamps on by the bed and dropped her legs out of bed.

She had just fastened her robe and reached the door when she heard another series of bangs and murmured annoyance.

"Rupert!" She gasped when she found him in a heap on the lounge floor, a chair knocked over and a vase smashed by her coffee table.

She bent over him and held out a hand.

"One too many drinks I'd say dear." She helped him to his feet and he draped his arm over her shoulders.

There was a knocking on the door and she clearly heard Joe's voice on the other side. Of course the noise would render assistance straightaway to the Queen's suite.

Leaving Rupert on the couch she tightened the tie on her robe and ran a hand through her hair before opening the door.

"Your Majesty, are you alright?" Joseph looked startled, unnerved.

"I'm fine, it was an accident really, it's fine."

"It's all fine." Rupert shouted.

Joseph politely waved the other guards away then turned back to Clarisse whispering. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes it was, he just stumbled."

Joseph nodded, he knew about the King's drinking habits well enough. "If you're sure."

"I am."

"Run along now." Rupert said laughing.

Joe caught the grimace on her face as she mouthed "Sorry" to him. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her alone.

"Now my dear, where were we?" Rupert's hands were on her back.

"You were on the floor." She said abruptly.

"Mmm, perhaps you'd like to join me."

"No, you're drunk, you should go to bed."

"Marvellous idea." He gripped her hand.

"Alone." She shook his hand away.

"No, I don't think I want to, you see." There was a hardness to his voice she hardly recognised; he never used that tone with her.

"Rupert we discussed this."

"I don't recall discussing it, the way I see things is you're my wife…" he pressed her back against the wall. "And have ignored your wifely duties for too long."

"I don't want this." She softened her voice appealing to the caring nature she knew he had.

"Surely it's not that bad." His mouth attacked hers leaving her breathless but she pushed him back again, angry at his persistence and this stupid drunken behaviour.

"Do you want me to call security?" She said with as much force as she could muster.

"You wouldn't do that."

"Oh believe me…"

He knocked her off balance and lifted her up carrying her through to the bedroom and dropping her on the bed. She struggled to sit up and he was able to move on top of her and press her down against the mattress.

"Please don't do this." She whispered.

But he was lost in the moment; he gripped her slender wrists in his hands and held her arms above her head as he kissed her neck.

She closed her eyes, this was alright, this was expected… this was what wives did, what Queens did.

* * *

When Clarisse woke the following morning she was alone, she shivered in bed and reached for her robe to cover her naked body then crossed to the window. The world was a blanket of white, a sheer plain landscape of beauty. The snow had arrived early this year.

Ignoring a pain in her arm she went to the bathroom to take a shower.

* * *

She found Joseph outside her room when she emerged less than an hour later.

He wasn't usually right outside. "Oh, good morning Joseph, was there something you wanted?"

"Not especially ma'am. Good morning." He smiled gently and bent his head.

"Good morning." She said again, warming at the sight of his face.

"His Majesty has gone riding."

She swallowed. "An excellent idea, lovely to ride on a morning like this."

"I agree. He wanted you to know lunch is arranged for 1:30. And the Prime Minister's wife is downstairs."

"Thank you so much. Walk with me." She said simply and he obliged accompanying her down to the library.

She didn't want to leave him outside, she'd rather they continued walking and chatting about unimportant things but instead she politely bid him farewell and went in to be the hostess. All thoughts of last night brushed from her mind.

* * *

"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry, for what happened." Rupert's voice was low, he stood just slightly behind her, barely touching her arm.

She continued to smile and greet the guests as they entered the dining room just as she knew he was.

What a time to say such a thing, what did he expect?

"Alright, apology accepted."

"It won't ever happen again."

"Good." She said firmly.

"Sunday lunch with the family." He said warmly looking about the room at the many people gathered and taking their seats. "You look wonderful."

"Thank you." She accepted the compliment as genuine; she'd never known him lie. A white dress today, a long cardigan over it, for some it would be over the top, on her it looked perfect. "I thought it reflected the weather."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Perfectly."

She turned her head slightly just accepting his kiss on her cheek and caught Joseph's eye across the room, watching her as always. She allowed a smile to pass over her face, a private smile, a smile of sadness.

* * *

Lunch dragged on for far too long for Clarisse, she didn't usually mind mingling and chatting to guests. Today was different; today she needed some peace and quiet. Some time alone to recover.

She escaped around four and, knowing nobody ever ventured up there, took the many flights of stairs up to one of the highest rooms in the Palace. The room was almost empty, and dusty, she came here many times over the years when she needed time alone. The first being when she found out she was pregnant, she'd wandered and found this room and hidden away here for an hour or so to think about things.

The view was magnificent, miles and miles of her Genovia stretched out in front of her. An almost picture postcard scene this afternoon, everything still and settled.

Clarisse heard a noise behind her and jerked her head round.

"Majesty, I'm sorry to disturb you."

"Joseph, it's fine. Guess I should know better than to try and hide from you." She turned back to the window. "I just wanted some peace, a little time alone."

"Then I shall leave you."

"No, no it's fine. Come stand here, look at this view."

He quietly stood slightly behind her staring out of the frosty windows.

"Icy today." He said gently.

"But beautiful don't you think."

"Very." His voice was deep and soothing and the tone made her turn and look him in the eye.

"Were you sent to find me?"

He shook his head. "No, I was worried, you seemed… agitated today ma'am."

"Please Joseph, Clarisse, we've known each other long enough now. In private at least."

"It may take me a while to get used to that."

She smiled and stretched her arm out and he noticed the bruise on the underside of her wrist.

Startled he blurted out. "Did you hurt yourself ma… Clarisse?" It seemed unusual if she had, he was with her almost every second of the day which only left the time spent alone in her room for an accident to have occurred. He was the one who caught all her slips and falls, which were few and far between anyhow.

"I, um no, not really." She looked up at him, his dark eyes full of concern and care. "You already know don't you." She said with anguish.

He hesitated just for a second; this would be crossing a line. He bravely accepted the challenge. "I could hasten a guess."

She smiled ironically and for the first time in his memory she slumped, her elbows resting on the ledge as she stared out at the snow covered fields.

"Of course you know, my security. My personal guard, of course you know. The entire Palace probably knows."

"Not from me ma'am." He said quickly.

"I know that Joseph. I wouldn't doubt that… Clarisse." She said again.

"Clarisse." He repeated softly, the word resting on his lips as gently as a snowflake melting.

He stood in silence next to her, desperate to say something comforting, to rest an arm across her slender shoulders and hold her close to him. His heart was thumping spurred on by her nearness, the scent of her perfume hanging in the still air.

If he just stepped a little closer she would probably rest her head on his chest, seek comfort in his embrace. But no there he stood rooted to the spot, held firm by duty and rules.

"You would think I would used to it by now." She finally whispered. "Forty-five, two children – I thought those duties were done with. Heirs produced, the future secure, it's not as if he doesn't have elsewhere to go for… plenty are willing."

She rambled on unthinking; she had so many words inside her head needing to burst out yet nobody there to say it too. Nobody she could really trust, really share everything with.

She lifted her face to his once more, her eyes threatening tears, they sparkled, her skin so pale and delicate.

"I'm sorry to lay this on you."

"I don't mind, you must know that."

She reached a hand out to him and he took it willingly.

"I get so lonely. Sometimes, just sometimes." She said.

"As do I."

They shared a moment of recognition then she turned her face back to the view taking in the sheer beauty, awed at the way something so simple could take her breath away.

He copied her stance and stepped closer to the window looking out at the land, so silent and still, everything at peace for as far as his eyes could see.

"Something about snowfall that renders me speechless."

"A feeling you can't explain." He added.

His hand still rested in hers, no pressure, just gently, the contact life affirming.

"I would have stopped it Clarisse, if I could." His voice was like a balm flowing over her tattered nerves.

He didn't have to say anything more, she understood.

"You would have been hung."

"It would have been worth it."

"Then I'd be alone."

Side by side they remained in silence, each assured of the other's feelings now, once and for all, no grand proclamations, no hearts and flowers. A hand resting in another, a moments shared wordless love and affection and devotion.

**_Cold, cold water surrounds me now and all I've got is your hand._**


	2. part 2

_Cold, cold water surrounds me now, and all I've got is your hand_

Part 2

Christmas arrived with the same flourish and joy that it always brought, Clarisse adored the endless present giving, the parties, the excuse to wear long flowing red gowns. Plus her children would be home, she could always rely upon the fact that her children would be there together and they'd celebrate as a family. Of course there was the added complication of having Rupert's many cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and the hundreds of other so-called 'family' members staying in the palace. Yet by the time they all went to church on Christmas morning nothing could dampen her spirits.

Joseph on the other hand had grown to hate this time of year, he was constantly rushing from one place to another, constantly worrying about who was stepping out of the crowd to shake the Queen's hand or present her with flowers. He kept his eyes on her at all times, scanning the immediate area around her, ready to throw himself forward if anything untoward occurred. On a personal note it pained him to be around in the palace during the festivities. It was the one time of year when he regretted never marrying or having children of his own as all the other staff eagerly rushed home. And he loathed watching Clarisse fussing over the younger members of the family, laughing in the parlour at some game they were playing or dancing with her husband.

Her husband, he didn't want to hate Rupert, in fact he quite liked the man, he was a good King. Not as harsh as his father had been, caring and he worked hard, he always worked hard. But ever since that day in the attic room, holding her hand and watching the snowfall, things had changed, things had shifted inside him. There was still the concern for her as a monarch, that strict duty to protecting his Queen, for the country, for the people. But there was love, soft and flowing beneath that, a deeper love than the affection for your ruler, a love he didn't want to accept existed because it would mean too much. It would hurt too much. Hell it hurt now. The bottom line was no matter how much he loved her, or whatever affection she held for him, nothing could or would ever happen. He would remain her guard, her protection, her servant. He was a commoner; though he hated to use the word it was the truth. She was royal, regal… god she was perfection. And how cliché for the little man to fall for the grandest prize, what kind of fairytale had he wandered into?

"Hey." He felt a shoulder nudge him. "Come on we're moving." Shades said in his ear.

Startled he lurched forward just catching Clarisse's arm as they passed through the crowds of people Rupert had been addressing; she turned her head only slightly and gave him a quick smile.

He must remember to apologise later for being clumsy, if he hadn't been daydreaming about what a beautiful morning it was or how good she looked in that outfit he would have been paying proper attention to the proceedings. He guided her towards the car, allowed her to get in and closed the door before seating himself in the front next to the driver. Rupert would go separately with Philippe, heading for Parliament, whilst Clarisse went home.

Things had been difficult between her and her youngest son recently, he'd noticed that. Of course he'd heard the rumours, that the Queen had forced her son to abandon the woman he loved in America and immediately return home. Yet he doubted it was entirely true, he knew Clarisse could bite back when she needed to but he'd never once seen her stop her sons from doing anything. In his eyes they seemed to be her only true constant source of joy.

He glanced quickly in the rear view mirror to check on her, now out of the main streets her head rested back on the seat and her eyes were closed. How would it feel to trace a finger down her neck, to feel her pulse beating there and the warmth of her silky skin? He almost died when she quickly opened her eyes and lifted her head meeting his stare in the mirror. He glanced away but then back again, intrigued, and she was still looking at his eyes, a slight smile on her lips. She bit down on her bottom lip and looked away, to the side, out of the window at the passing view.

* * *

When they arrived back at the palace he helped her from the car, holding the hand she offered for him until she was clear of the door.

"Your majesty," Alice said approaching from the bottom of the steps. "You received a gift from Countess Maria and a call this morning from the Prime Ministers wife."

"Ours?" She said wearily making her way up the steps.

"French."

She sighed. "Alright, I'll return it in the next hour. Could you organise Tea to be brought to my room please Alice dear. Awfully cold out here today."

"Certainly ma'am. Thank you."

Joe cast a glance at the petite woman. She had been Clarisse's assistant for as long as he could recall, yet somehow they still had kept that distance between them. He'd never known them share a friendly smile or laugh at something together. It struck him as odd, but then you couldn't automatically bond with everybody. She was older than Clarisse, must be in her sixties now, and small, tiny even. But she had a nerve of steel and if you crossed her, you certainly knew about it. Joseph had incurred her wrath only once and never again.

Clarisse crossed the marble floor and began to ascend the staircase, he waited at the bottom. Once she was safely inside her room he could perhaps sneak off and have a cup of tea himself, she was right, it was bloody cold this morning. His fingers felt like icicles inside his leather gloves.

"Joseph." She said without turning her head.

"Ma'am?"

"Could I speak with you please."

"Yes, of course." He followed her politely up in the stairs to her suite and into her office.

Standing by the door, his hands folded behind his back he silently watched as she removed her coat and shuffled through the pile of letters on her desk.

"Is everything alright Joseph?" She said without looking up.

He was confused, what exactly was she asking him? "Yes ma'am, um sorry about earlier, I misjudged the step."

She smiled looking up. "Never mind, I hardly noticed. But I did notice you aren't going home this year."

"For Christmas, no, no my brother is taking his family on holiday. I didn't really wish to spend the season in a tropical climate."

"I whole heartedly agree." She sat down indicating for him to take the chair across from her.

"But still, you must have a break. It can't be good for you to work the entire year round."

"I suppose not."

"Do I have to order you to take a break?" She was teasing him.

"No, ma'am."

"I thought we'd discussed that…" She said pointedly leaning forward and folding her hands together.

"We did."

"So tell me, what are the maids saying about Philippe?"

Ah so now it became clear. "Saying?"

"You know exactly what I mean Joseph."

"Your ma…" He lowered his voice. "Clarisse, I don't really think it's appropriate for me to pass on the downstairs gossip."

"Isn't that what friends do, gossip. And after six years I'd say we friends, are we not?"

He nodded. "Yes, we are."

She broke the eye contact when a knock came on the door. The maids brought in her tea, poured her a cup and she waved them away.

"Would you like Tea?" She asked.

"Erm, well, I'm not sure."

She arched an eyebrow. "You're not sure if you would like Tea, or you're not sure if it's appropriate to take Tea with me?"

"I'm not sure if it's acceptable."

"I find it acceptable…" She softened her voice, took a sip from her cup and levelled him with her gaze. "I enjoy your company Joseph, I can talk to you."

So that was it, she could talk to him, that's all it was.

"Well, I'm glad."

She laughed. "You don't look glad, you look terrified."

"I suppose I'm that too." He felt his body relax at the sound of her laughter.

"We get on well Joseph, we have a good rapport. Alice and I have never had it…" She whispered secretively.

"I had noticed that."

"You could hardly fail to."

"Well retirement can't be far off."

She laughed shocked. "Joseph!"

"Sorry."

"Oh dear, you are right though. I'm hoping Charlotte will accept the position when Alice does retire."

He nodded. "She seems promising, still young though."

"And quite a pretty girl." She said staring at him.

"Yes, I suppose she is."

"Single I believe."

"Are you attempting to match make?"

"Just testing the waters."

"There's no need to…"

"Really?"

"I'm too old for her."

"Oh nonsense, you've been single for far too long Joseph, you think I don't know these things." She pointed a finger at him.

"Well, perhaps I like it that way. Too many complications."

She knew she was pushing the subject too far but pressed on regardless. "Nobody caught your eye?"

"I didn't say that." He smiled.

She looked down at the table, was she blushing?

"That afternoon Joseph, I never said thank you. It was a tremendous help, having you there, your support… well you know."

"I'm easy to talk to."

"Yes, yes you are."

"Don't worry Clarisse, the things we discuss, I never repeat it – any of it."

"I know that, I trust in that. It's just difficult sometimes, for me to make friends, real friends. I seem to have lost touch with all the ones I had when I was young."

"It happens."

"But most people make more friends, new ones."

"Most people don't have a world watching them."

"Exactly, that's what I'm trying to say. I just, I'm not putting it very well."

"I understand completely, you like to talk to me, but if you're actually seen talking to me then other people will talk…" He smiled trying to keep the mood light and easy.

"You know that's it exactly!" She shook her head. "All so complicated, I just wanted you to know that's all. I may not always show it but you do mean so very much to me."

"And you to me." That was it, that was as far as it was going to go without a full-blown confession.

"So, will you take tea with me?"

"I think I just might."

"And the gossip…"

"Ah, you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

"I'm going to be a Grandma."

He wasn't expecting that, they were joking, playing around, he wasn't expecting her to really reveal such a thing.

"Oh my goodness, congratulations."

There was only a trace of a smile on her lips. "Thank you… I think. It isn't easy. Rupert is outraged."

"Oh?"

"I'm sorry, I keep dropping these weights on you. It's not fair."

"Better to share?"

"Yes, much." She sighed. "She's American, the girl, Philippe met her at University, an artist I think. It would have been easier if Pierre hadn't abdicated but as you know, things are never simple."

He nodded sadly.

"Philippe must decide what to do."

"And the girl?"

"Doesn't want marriage, doesn't want this life…" She waved around the room. "But wants the baby."

"Of course."

"And he loves her, my son is in love Joseph, do you know how terrifying that is for a Mother – can you imagine?"

"This girl, she must also be terrified."

"I expect so. Helen, her name is Helen."

"A different country, a different lifestyle completely. She can't be expected to simply accept this, let alone want to be part of it."

She appreciated his frankness. "No, I suppose not. It would change everything, her entire life. And if Philippe chooses to marry her and stay in America it will change everything for us."

He appreciated the 'us'.

"He will make the right choice Clarisse, he's a strong young man."

"He loves his country."

"He loves his Mother." He said warmly.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

* * *

Rupert stormed down the corridor slamming each door he passed through, the guards lining the route never lifted their faces but trembled slightly in his wake. Barging through the doors to his wife's suite he almost knocked poor Alice over as she went to leave.

"Sorry Sir." She said but he hardly paid her any attention instead rushing on and into the room where Clarisse sat reading.

"This is totally unacceptable." He boomed.

Gracefully she lifted her head and looked at him over the top of her glasses. "What is dear?"

"This damned American woman." He waved a piece of paper at her. "How can she give birth to a Renaldi and not want to be part of the family, we should have that baby, it's ours."

"Rupert, please sit down." She put her book to one side and attempted to settle him. "Now the baby isn't ours its Philippe's and Helen's."

"We could force her to hand it over."

"I wouldn't be any part of that Rupert, you know how I feel."

"I need your support to pull it off."

"And I've just said you won't get it." She could be just as steely as him if she needed to be. "Helen keeps the baby, we keep out of her life, if that's what she wants."

"How can we…"

"Ah" she held up her hand silencing him. "We keep out of her life, at least for the time being. Until the child is old enough to understand, until we're ready to deal with it."

She moved closer to him on the couch, placing a hand on his leg. "Philippe's heartbroken Rupert, you must see that."

He nodded his head.

"So we need to support him, especially now. He feels he's let us down."

"He has."

"Perhaps, but we can't change it now, we have to move on." She placed a finger beneath his chin lifting his face to hers. "You look tired, this stress isn't doing you any good."

"Don't fuss."

"I'm your wife it's my job." She smiled warmly and kissed his forehead.

"You're too good to me."

"I know."

She stood and poured him a glass of water; he looked awfully red faced and old, older than she could remember him being. He did have quite a few years on her, almost ten in fact, but recently he'd started to appear drained, to her eyes anyway. And he didn't seem quite as sharp as he usually did, in conversations he was always the first to seize an opportunity, to pounce on any valuable idea and pursue it. Now he just seemed tired.

"Can I stay here, with you?" He said gently as she handed him the water.

"Stay?"

He looked towards the bedroom then noting her puzzled expression shook his head. "No, no not for that… not for what you think. I just want to be with you."

"Yes, you can stay. But the left side is mine."

She held him that night as he slept, listening to the unsteady rattle of his breathing, the body she'd always thought was so strong and so secure seemed thinner, weaker and she realised just how human this man was. Even King's got ill.

* * *

The following morning Joseph was up and about incredibly early. He went for a jog in the grounds, pounding the icy grass beneath his feet, filling his lungs with the fresh frozen air. Then showered and dressed before making his way to Clarisse's suite. She had requested the previous day that he join her for Breakfast, citing the reason as going over the security plans for the New Year Ball but privately he'd hoped that was simply a cover. He found himself almost whistling as he strode purposefully down the corridor, feeling alive and completely good about the world.

When he rounded the corner to her door he felt his heart tighten another notch, the anticipation of seeing her was becoming overwhelming. He'd turned into a schoolboy again, meeting a beautiful girl for a first date. Only it all drained away when the door opened and he heard her laughing.

She stepped out in front of him quickly followed by Rupert, his hand rested on the small of her back and they were sharing some joke. Joseph felt his guts hit the floor at the sight of it, he'd spent the night there, they'd spent the night together. Not forced, not in drunken anger, she'd done it out of choice.

"Ah Joseph, good morning to you sir, you look very well." Rupert seemed brighter this morning, confident.

"Your majesty." He stumbled over his words, bowing his head.

Clarisse bit down on her lip as she recalled the plans. "You go down, I'll be just a second I have to discuss something. I'm so sorry Joseph it completely slipped my mind." She said as calmly as she could allowing Rupert to kiss her cheek.

She turned and re-entered the suite reluctantly followed by her security guard.

"I am sorry Joseph, I got caught up and …"

"I saw, there's no need to explain."

"Excuse me?" She stared at him open-mouthed.

"It doesn't matter." He said staring at the far wall over her head.

"If you have something to say then say it." Her voice had dropped lower and she leant over the desk resting her palms flat on the surface.

"I have nothing to say… your Majesty."

She searched for a response, stood up straight and then took a sharp intake of breath when it hurt her. "Oh goodness Joseph, you think… oh…" She stepped around the desk to him.

"I have no right to question whatever…" He dared to look at her face.

"No you don't, but part of me is flattered that you care." She smiled at him, just slightly, then took another deep breath in an attempt to calm her ever-increasing heart rate.

"Nothing happened Joseph, he was upset over this business with Philippe and the baby and it's all just, just family things I suppose."

"Of course your Majesty." He dipped his head.

Oh god she'd said the wrong thing again, caused him to feel isolated and shut out. That was the last thing she wanted.

She stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm. "Joseph, I don't know what else you want me to say."

"Nothing." He shook his head. "Absolutely nothing. The plans for the Ball are complete, I'll get them to you by mid-morning."

She let go of his arm. "Thank you," she sighed. "You can go."

She watched him leave then sat back on the desk, suddenly she didn't feel quite so upbeat anymore. How the hell was she supposed to deal with this situation? On the one hand he should be moved immediately, he was attracted to her quite obviously, but she sensed that perhaps there was more to it. It wasn't simply an innocent crush, there was genuine affection there – and if she was perfectly honest with herself it wasn't one-sided.

It was with a great deal of effort that she left her suite and made her way down to meet the rest of the family for breakfast.

* * *

Joseph knocked on the heavy wooden door and with some reluctance entered at Clarisse's bidding.

"You asked to see me your Majesty." He said calmly, he'd done his best to avoid her for the day, embarrassed by his own idiotic behaviour that morning. Awkward would describe his feelings, bloody awkward and clumsy. Whatever 'friendship' they had tentatively formed over the years he had clearly ruined in one stupid moment. Jealous of her husband, what a complete brainless fool.

"Joseph, are you listening to me?"

His head shot up and he focused on her face. "Yes, sorry, sorry… long day."

"Yes. For me too. Sit down Joseph." She indicated the seat across from her, turned in her chair and crossed her legs.

"We have to talk about this, as uncomfortable as it might be." She said with a great degree of effort.

"Yes." He tried to keep his voice even and level.

"You know as well as I do that this kind of thing isn't acceptable…"

"This kind of thing?"

"Between us."

"Friends you said." He said eagerly, not thinking.

"And we are."

"But you want me to leave."

"No! No, I don't. But this can't… happen," she whispered. "Nothing can ever happen."

"You think I don't know that." His voice was louder than he meant it to be.

"Joseph please, somebody might hear."

She watched the emotions play across his face, initial anger turning to despair and heartbreak.

In a second she had moved around the desk to him, bending down next to him and taking his hand. He flinched, her touch unexpected.

"The last thing I want to do is hurt you Joseph."

"Don't say that, patronising."

"It isn't meant to be, I would never do that. I value you too much. But we can't…" she searched for the words. "Cross a line."

"I think I've already crossed it." He stood up abruptly. "If you'll excuse me your Majesty."

"No don't leave now, please we need to sort this out. I don't want to lose your friendship," she took a deep breath. "I can't do this." She whispered. "There's too much at stake for me."

"I know that, I understand that, but I can't just switch off my feelings. If you want me to leave that's fine, I'll do whatever you decide is for the best."

He made his way to the door.

"Joseph… I am sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am." He turned back to her attempting to smile. "Ironic really I search my entire life for 'the one' and I can't have her."

"Oh…" She moved towards him but he held up his hand.

"Goodnight your majesty."

"Clarisse." She said pointedly.

"That would be crossing a line."

_Cold cold water surrounds me now, and I can't let go of your hand..._


	3. part 3

Part 3

Clarisse took a sip of her tea and leant back in her chair wrapping her fingers around the china cup and watching the young man sat across from her. His stance was one of great poise and dignity, yet when she caught his eye all she saw there was sadness.

"I've made my decision Mother."

"And?"

"Helen will live alone, bring our child up alone, I will remain here."

Clarisse swallowed her tea and replaced the cup on its saucer. "We will help her in any way we can."

"I'm aware of that." He turned his head and looked out of the window to the frosted garden.

"I'm sorry I took so long to decide."

"I would never push you Philippe."

He nodded his head then glanced back at her. Right now a hug from her would have been most welcome, but instead she remained seated at her side of the table, he at his.

"How's father?"

"Doing better, I think this so-called 'cold' he caught is finally on its way out. The Doctors say he'll be up and about in a few days."

"Good, good."

"Shall in inform him or would you rather?"

"If it pleases him then yes, I don't really mind." He shrugged. "I thought I might go away for a while, take a break, skiing or some such thing."

"An excellent idea. It hasn't been much of a festive period for you."

He looked down at his folded hands. "Thank you mother."

She nodded and watched as he got up to leave, making his way across the office to the door. She suddenly felt a tightening in her throat.

"Philippe."

"Yes?"

"I'm here for you, if you ever need to talk, you do know that don't you?"

He nodded again then exited the room passing Joseph who stood to the left hand side of the door. How could he talk to his mother, he doubted whether she'd ever felt real passion. Whether she even knew what real love was, the hunger to be with that person all the time, every second of every day.

No, he was aware of his parent's relationship and preferred not to dwell on it for too long, it upset him, it unnerved him. He missed Helen more than he ever thought possible, but duty beckoned and duty, in his family at least, seemed to override love.

He would have Samuel organise him a little trip, a little getaway, a couple of weeks on the slopes might clear his head.

* * *

With Philippe on holiday and Pierre already training for his new position the Palace seemed awfully empty for Clarisse. 

February was always a slow month anyway, the long days still tired from winter and not yet blooming with spring. There were few public engagements, who wanted to be out in this weather?

She attempted to busy herself by catching up with paperwork, reorganising her office, restocking the Palace library. Yet as much as she worked she couldn't escape that feeling of loneliness. After his rather bad luck over Christmas Rupert was back to full health and as busy and preoccupied as ever, if not more so, he seemed determined to prove something. She let him, if she thought it was getting too much then she would step in and calm his behaviour.

She was also aware of the gossip circulating around her, the maids may have thought they were being discreet but she knew what they thought, what they were all saying. Queen Clarisse had forced her son to abandon his one and only true love. What right did she have? What did she know about love anyway?

She was used to gossip, over the years many things had flooded through the Palace system only to be replaced by something new and fresh. But this time it affected her, this time it hurt. Because afterall it was true, they'd struck a nerve.

Since the 'mis-understanding', as she preferred to call it, with Joseph at Christmas, he had kept his distance. He was polite yes, he worked hard, he never did anything to draw attention or speculation from anybody… only her. Gone were there intimate chats on random matters, a shared joke in the car or a hand that held hers a little too tightly. There was no meeting his gaze and drawing warmth from the adoration she found there. Whatever feelings he said he had for he appeared to have been suppressed, or gone completely.

She on the other hand was struggling. As she'd brushed his advances off her mind had sub-consciously began to fantasise about him more and more. There were nights she would wake up from dreams about him, the kind of dreams she hadn't had for many, many years. She would recall the look on his face, what he'd said to her when she'd rebuffed his advances. Well not even advances really, more like open affection. God how she missed that affection.

* * *

A couple of weeks after Philippe's departure she'd accompanied Rupert to the Opera. With a rather disillusioned air she'd chosen a long flowing dress of claret silk and Rupert insisted she wore the diamonds he'd given her as a Christmas present. They may have been beautiful but they were damned heavy. 

Joseph of course had gone with them along with Edward and Richard, Rupert's personal bodyguards. The evening appeared to be going well, she smiled at all the right intervals, chatted amicably with the guests in the intermission, hardly drank, remained wide awake throughout the Opera and looked stunning. Wasn't that her role afterall?

At one point Rupert had reached across in the darkness and gripped her hand, folding his fingers with hers and squeezing. She glanced across at his face and was struck by how very old he looked, his hand felt cold in hers and instead of finding comfort in the sensation she felt violated. She didn't want to hold his hand, it wasn't a choice, didn't she have the right to make choices? She closed her eyes for a second, just a second, and was overwhelmed by the feelings that flooded through her, the memory of she and Joseph standing silently side-by-side in that old abandoned room, watching the gentle snowfall and holding hands. It seemed to her the most poignant memory she had.

Battling a sudden urge to cry she pulled her hand from Rupert's and slid out of her chair, they were high up in the balcony and she felt dizzy as she attempted to manoeuvre her way around the seats and locate the door in the darkness.

Her breath was coming in short, tight gasps as she felt along the wall, desperate to escape. A hand reached across in front of her and opened the door and without turning she quickly stepped out into the dimly lit foyer. She glanced around hesitantly and seeing nobody present pressed her hands against a curtained wall and closed her eyes allowing her tears to fall, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Majesty?" A deep, low voice said.

She realised how ridiculous she must look, her shoulders rising and falling but no sound escaping her mouth. She'd long since learnt how to cry quietly.

"Your majesty." The voice was closer now, at her shoulder. A hand touched her elbow. "Clarisse."

She turned swiftly and found her body pressed against her bodyguard's, her eyes closed, face buried in his shoulder she sobbed openly for the first time in years.

* * *

Perhaps she should have been embarrassed by her outburst but oddly she wasn't in the slightest. With Joseph's hands resting on her back and his voice soothing her she soon calmed and was escorted to the car. Joseph left a message that the Queen was suddenly feeling unwell and arranged for another car to return for the King later in the evening. 

They drove home in silence; Joseph didn't even speak to the driver. He stared straight ahead down the long dark road and Clarisse stared at him, at the back of his head, the slope of his shoulders. When he leaned forward to press the radio off she'd watched his hand as if it were some sacred tool, wondered how it would feel to hold his hands in a dance. To feel him rocking her to sleep, holding her close for a kiss, offering comfort and kindness in times of pain and heartache. A soothing balm in times of sickness. The more she thought, the more the tears threatened to fall again.

He escorted her into the palace with little fanfare and for once she didn't know how to proceed, what room to take him into, where they could be alone and talk. She felt like she were on some train that wouldn't stop and she needed to reach the destination even though it scared her to death. She was lost, and the only way she could see out of it was to accept how she felt and be alone with him.

He followed her as she walked slowly towards her suite, when she stopped at the library doors and turned to him he dipped his head.

"Goodnight your Majesty, I hope you're feeling well tomorrow."

"Don't go yet." It was barely a whisper but his eyes snapped to hers, full of intensity and questions.

She turned and entered the library and he followed her inside. There was a small room that she reserved especially for herself, not one guest was ever allowed in here, Rupert had only visited a few times. It was small, a couch, a large open comfy chair by the fireplace, a table for her drink; a few select books roughly stacked. She came here for solace, for privacy.

He stared at her blankly, expectantly, his hands hung loosely at his sides.

"Thank you." Was all she managed to say.

"You're welcome." Was his clipped response. "Excuse me your majesty but was there something in particular you wanted to discuss, has my work not been up scratch?"

She shook her head, sliding her coat from her shoulders and wishing she weren't dressed so elaborately right now.

"Well it's very late and I have…"

"…I'm sorry." She said quickly and he raised an eyebrow, stepping back from her just slightly.

"I'm sorry for hurting you." She shrugged. "I never wanted to, I didn't realise when I said those things how much…" she took a breath. "How much it would hurt me too."

"Majesty…" He said gently but she reached for his arm to hush him.

"I must say this now or I'm afraid I won't ever and if I never do you'll never know how I feel and I won't ever know how it feels to be part of something like this and I just…" She was rambling, she always rambled when she was nervous.

"I can't do this Joseph."

"You told me that before."

"I can't but, oh but how I want to. I never met anyone who made me feel the way you do. I must have had conversations with a hundred Princes, dignitaries, Lords and Ladies and the richest, the most educated but you… you reduce me to this."

She was trembling, daren't let go of his arm for fear he would pull away and she'd lose him.

"I've had a thousand conversations with myself about how I can't do this, I mustn't feel this way about you, it's wrong, it's inappropriate. It's damned selfish, you're a wonderful man, caring and intelligent and funny. You should be married and having babies…"

He smiled slightly.

"I can't ask for you to give that up, to devote yourself to me in this horrid sordid secretive way. I don't have that right. But I can't share you."

"I haven't looked at another woman since I met you."

She stared at him dumbfounded. "All these years."

He nodded unable to form a sentence.

"It scares me. This…" She stepped closer to him.

"It terrifies me, the power you have over me. I'd lie down and die for you, and not for my job or my duty but because you make life worth…" he stumbled across his words, desperate to share how he felt inside. "You give me meaning and clarity and you just, I feel like I've found forever in you."

The tears that had threatened earlier slipped down her face. "Nobody has ever made me feel so beautiful."

He glanced at the huge glistening rock hanging around her neck and she instinctively reached her hand to cover it.

"What can I offer?" He said gently.

"You see me, the me beneath all this."

"Yet still you can't… and I understand that, I respect that. But I can't be with you and not be with you – not now."

"I understand that too, and I respect it." She moved closer to him overwhelmed by her desire to feel his hands on her body.

"If I kiss you now, there's no going back."

"I know."

She finally closed her eyes as his hands slid to her waist and felt his lips hesitantly touch hers. Soft gentle kisses, testing to see if it was alright, if he had crossed a line. But she allowed her hands to go to his neck, pressing her body even closer to his, though it proved difficult with the huge dress circling her.

Feeling brave he held his mouth against hers, the blood was pumping in his brain, thudding against his heart, and she moaned. Oh god she wanted this too. He deepened the kiss, not quite invading her mouth but making sure she was aware of the intensity of his kisses, of the meaning behind them.

And then it stopped. She pulled back; she dropped her hands from his neck and stepped back from him.

Her eyes were red from crying, her face flushed and her whole manner one of sexuality and need. But she stepped back.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I don't know…" She shrugged, gripping her own shoulders with her hands and trying to put as much space as possible between them. "I don't know how to handle this."

Taking a deep shuddering breath, distressed at the sight of her unbalanced and obviously torn up inside he stepped back also.

"Goodnight your Majesty." Then he noted the further distress in her eyes. "Sleep well Clarisse." He said softly, his words full of love and regret.

* * *

Joseph didn't sleep; he wandered the Palace grounds for a couple of hours after leaving Clarisse. Striving to conquer the desire that was coursing through him, hoping the freezing night air would cool his temperament. There was no going back now; there was no forgetting that kiss, or what she'd said. 

He passed by the library en route to his room and had stopped, wondering if she was still in there, if he should go to her. But the King's assistant passed by and stopped to chat to him and he ended up walking with him down the long winding corridors until he reached his own room.

He changed, fell into bed and continually turned over for an hour trying to get comfy and settle his mind. In the end he gave up, there was no sleep to be had tonight. He leant forward and pulled back the drapes from the window looking out at the heavy night sky. There was no sign of stars; it was overcast and the air icy as it skipped over the palace grounds. He occasionally caught a glimpse of a torchlight shining and the figure of some security guard doing his rounds. When he'd inherited this room all those years ago the first thing he did was personally order a new bed, a heavy oak wood frame from England, and positioned it directly beside the small window. That way he could lie in bed at night and see the stars, watch the night sky and drift to sleep with it watching over him.

It offered no comfort tonight. Whatever it was that had happened, whatever had grown between them it was a mistake. He knew that, he had to know that. Besides, her vulnerability right now, the sudden departure of Pierre from his succession and then Philippe disappearing to America and all this mess with the baby and Helen… it was bound to shatter her poise. It struck him that Rupert was never the kind of man you could go and cry to and perhaps Joe had just been there at the right time, a shoulder to cry on. But he'd gone too far, they'd gone too far and now it was time to step back.

Giving up on sleep he rose in the early hours, went for a jog around the grounds then still finding himself full of unused energy he went to the squash courts and battered the tiny ball.

He never noticed the lady watching him through the frosted glass, never heard as she opened the door and went in, standing behind him, leaning against the back wall listening as he shouted at the ball and bounced it repeatedly against the wall.

When he finally missed and the ball slid to the floor and rolled away from him he stopped. His breaths were ragged, his chest stung as he attempted to draw as much air into his lungs as possible.

"Relieving some frustrations." Her voice was low and soft and he turned at the sound of it.

"You could say that."

"Awfully early for this." She said folding her arms, an attempt to keep her posture neutral.

"Didn't sleep."

"At all?"

He shook his head.

"No, me neither." She glanced at the floor, away from him.

He didn't know what to say, to apologise for the previous night, to enquire as to how she felt now, to ignore it completely and get on with the day ahead.

She broke the silence.

"For my confusing signals Joseph I apologise… last night, I was upset. I was, I needed somebody."

This time he looked to the floor. She needed somebody, anybody, not just him.

She stepped towards him, almost whispering. "No, I needed you."

His eyes met hers to draw out any trace of a lie but there was none.

"But there are a million reasons why I mustn't do this. I can't. These last couple of months have been very difficult and I let my guard down and allowed myself to feel more than I should… and now I'm a mess. I don't like to not be in control."

"I'm aware of that. And I know how unhappy you've been recently and I'm sorry I took advantage of that, I overstepped a line."

"No you didn't, I knew how deeply you felt, I was the one who let it go too far. For that I apologise, it's not fair to draw you in then push you away again, it can only hurt you or give false hopes."

"The false hopes I don't mind, any kind of hope." He shrugged.

"You can't… I don't want you to. My family, my husband."

"Don't." He walked past her, dropping his racket into the bag by the door.

"You can't just ignore the fact, all this responsibility."

"Don't you ever once think about yourself."

"Yes, last night I did and I've never felt so guilty."

"God would forgive you the indiscretion Clarisse. You married for duty not love." He spoke bravely, she couldn't deny him his point of view now.

"But would I ever forgive myself?"

"Apparently not." He slung the bag over his shoulder. "I have an hour before we leave for the consulate, I'll report to your office in forty-five minutes."

"Joseph wait… I don't know what you want, I don't know what I can give you."

"I just want to be with you, that's all. No pressure, not pushing you into being with me, I want you to want it to. I want to love you."


	4. part 4

Part 4

Rupert was an astute man, bright and intelligent and quite the businessman when he needed to be. Many would take this to mean he was cold and heartless, they would be wrong. In fact the truth of the matter was he found it easier to share his feelings than Clarisse did. Despite his often brash and abrupt nature towards them his sons were the most important things to him and their well being was held closest to his heart followed by his wives.

When his mother had introduced him to the young Clarisse he had been struck by not only her beauty but also by her ability to hold her head up high and carry her role off to perfection. However, though beautiful there had never been a spark between them. He trusted her, he respected her, and he loved her dearly. Unfortunately the bond he so desperately wanted with a woman had never happened with her. They were friends, they had fun together, he could tell her anything and she'd given him his pride and joy. His two boys.

He wasn't blind to her feelings though and since December he begun to notice subtle changes in her behaviour and mood swings. He hadn't questioned her on it; afterall they'd been through a lot recently. Pierre's new role, Philippe finding love in America, that girl, the baby – their grandchild. Too much for such a short space of time, his wife was strong but she wasn't immune to human emotions.

"I know I haven't helped."

Clarisse looked up from gazing at the candlelight and instead stared into her husband's concerned eyes.

"Sorry?"

"I said I know I haven't helped. That, well, that incident between us."

"Forgotten." She said shaking her head.

"It can't have helped matters though, with all that's going on."

"Going on?" Her head shot up, did he know?

"The baby, Philippe."

"Oh." He didn't know. "No, I mean, it hasn't been easy but we'll get through it. We always do." She lifted her glass and sipped the fine French wine.

"Of course, but if you need anything, you've been a little preoccupied recently."

She sighed. "I know and I'm sorry – things are bothering me."

"You could take some time away, for yourself."

"No." Time to herself to think was the last thing she needed. "I'll be fine, I'll deal with it."

"May I suggest sooner rather than later, we do have an important year coming up what with Philippe and the…"

"I'm aware of that." She snapped. "I'll deal with it."

"Good." He returned to his meal and Clarisse returned her gaze to the candlelight, how the hell was she supposed to deal with this?

* * *

Knitting his hands together Joseph made his way down the long corridor towards the King's private office. It wasn't in his nature to fear, he hadn't brought up that way, but right now he was feeling physically sick.

In his hearts of hearts he knew Clarisse would never had revealed their secret, but he wondered if another member of staff had witnessed their indiscretion or if Rupert himself suspected something. He would deny it all, to the death he would deny it; he would never knowingly harm her good name.

He knocked on the heavy wooden door and immediately was greeted by one of Rupert's personal assistants.

"Good timing, he's in an excellent mood this morning."

"Ah spot on timing as usual Joe." Rupert said as Joseph entered the room and was waved to a chair.

"Drink?"

"No thank you, I'm fine Sir."

"Alright, well let's get down to it I have about ten minutes before this damned phone rings again."

Joe swallowed, mentally preparing himself for his defence.

"The thing is you have worked with the Queen for rather a while now, and she's always held you in the highest regard. Which isn't an easy accomplishment, we all know how fussy women can be."

He laughed and Joe allowed himself a small smile.

"Well as you know we're having a shuffle around now, new year and all that, and Clarisse has suggested you as a possible trainee for Head of Security when Richard retires in a few years time."

"Oh, really… wow, thank you."

"No need to thank me, hard work, that's what its down to. And of course the good word of her Majesty."

"Well I will thank her too."

Rupert nodded, his short attention span shifting to the papers in front of him. "Richard will take you through the details. You'll have a couple of months left with Clarisse of course whilst we finalise things. An excellent opportunity for you…" He looked up, his stare sharp and piercing. "Excellent opportunity."

"Thank you." Joe said somewhat half-heartedly.

* * *

He didn't immediately go to her; it took him a couple of days. Two days of silence and attempted ignorance at her involvement in his 'excellent opportunity.' She didn't say anything about it, she acted as she normally did, he remained a few steps behind her on every engagement and avoided meeting her gaze on most occasions.

It was a late evening when the topic finally came up for discussion. She'd attended a dinner alone, Rupert was away on business and Joseph had stood in the background behind drapes watching.

As it turned out the entire evening was one of total boredom, at one point he amused himself by counting the amount of naked females painted on the ceiling. Ironic how the people in this room were the most stuffy, dull human beings he'd ever encountered. Not one ounce of passion or lust within them and yet they had these images displayed around their dinner halls.

In the car on the way home they'd sat in virtual silence, Clarisse commenting on the coldness of the weather even though they were well into April now. The driver as quiet and nameless as always, it amazed Joseph just how many drivers they got through in a year.

"Something amused you tonight Joseph." She said after fifteen minutes on the road.

"Ma'am." He lifted his head towards her, glancing over into the back seat.

"I noticed you smiling, on more than one occasion, it can't have been at the exhilarating conversations taking place, so I was wondering just what it was?"

"Ahh, private joke ma'am."

"I see." She fiddled with her scarf, rearranging it neatly at the opening to her coat.

Joe drummed his fingers on the edge of the window counting down the minutes until they got closer to the palace.

He helped her from the car and she looked up at him smiling, standing too close and he felt a surge of anger twist through him as she did.

"Thank you Joseph."

"Thank you your majesty. For the recommendation."

She arched an eyebrow questioningly.

"The transfer, an excellent idea, so nice of you to care."

To the observer his words were genuine and heartfelt, to her they stung and she was numb.

"I think we should talk privately about this, don't you." She hissed in his ear.

"As you wish ma'am." He replied calmly.

It was already past mid-night as he escorted her to her suite, the palace was still and silent which only served to fuel his feeling of doom. Yet he refused to be made to feel bad about this, afterall it was she who was in the wrong, he had done nothing but follow his feelings. Perhaps to his peril.

He followed her into her private office, watched as she slipped her coat off and allowed the maid to take it away directing her with a few well-placed words. She waited for the young lady to exit with a curtsy before she allowed herself to address Joe.

"Close the door Joseph." She snapped.

He obliged, remaining rooted by it with his arms folded behind his back.

"I don't appreciate your attitude Joseph, and I certainly don't appreciate you speaking to me like that outside in full view of other members of staff."

"Pardon me ma'am but I don't appreciate your attitude either."

"Excuse me! My attitude?"

"Bury your head in the sand Clarisse and perhaps it will go away."

"You have no right…" She warned stepping toward him.

"I have every right, you're breaking my heart."

She stopped, gasped for breath and watched his face fall.

"You're breaking my heart." He whispered.

For the first time in her life proud, regal Clarisse witnessed a man broken in front of her.

Part of her longed to hold him, to take that sadness away, to wash it away with her sweet kisses. Yet the sensible part of her knew here was the moment, here was the boundary, if she gave in now there would be no turning back and she couldn't do that… to either of them.

She straightened her shoulders in an attempt to regain her sensibilities and think clearly.

"I recommended for you to be promoted for two reasons, the first is you are worthy of the position – we both know that. The other is that…" She took a breath, knitted her fingers together. "I couldn't bear to keep you near me for my own selfish reasons."

"Selfish?" He queried staring at her face.

"I can't do this, to my children, my husband, my country… to you, how fair is it for you to follow me around like some loyal puppy when you could be marrying and having a family of your own."

"I don't want that, you know I don't… I can't either." He realised he was shouting now but he couldn't stop, the anger raged inside him. "You think he's not screwing around with other women."

She matched his voice. "And you want that do you, to screw around with me?"

"No…" he said gently. "Never."

"Exactly." She was close enough to touch him now; she rested a hand on his face. "It would never be enough, once would never be enough. Believe me I thought about it… giving in and spending one night with you but it would only lead to more, we'd want more, and that I can't do."

She took a breath, dropped her hand from his face and reached for his own trembling hand.

"For heavens sake Joseph the way I feel about you now, I can't even explain it, how would it be if I knew what it was to have your touch." She shrugged. "I can't do it, I can't give you the time and devotion you deserve, that this relationship would deserve. That doesn't mean in another lifetime I wouldn't… if I had the chance to do it all again don't you think I would…"

He was crying, openly sobbing in front of her, she'd never witnessed a man cry like that before, not even her children.

"I love you…" He attempted to say.

"Shhh, I know." She gave in and took him in her arms allowing her own tears to fall.

"My heart is breaking too. You're the best friend I've ever had…"

He pulled back, furiously wiping his face. "I feel like I'm drowning in all this."

"As do I... and I don't know how to deal with it. You never get training on situations like this, I'm doing the best I can, you must believe that."

He nodded mutely, too exhausted to speak.

"It's like the world is closing in on me, now after all these years of being here and performing this role, living this life NOW I'm forced to actually look at it." She shook her head. "And I can't, it's too much, the only lifeline offered is your hand... and if I accept it..." Her eyes closed forcing more tears to fall.

He dared himself to be brave and lifted her chin. "I'll always be here for you."

"You shouldn't say things like that, I don't want that..."

He nodded, attempted a smile and was tempted to kiss her but resisted.

"I should go, the guard outside will wonder what's going on."

"May I suggest you use the washroom and rinse your face."

"Thank you." He reluctantly let go of her body and walked across the office.

"Joseph, I am sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

"I know." He took a deep breath and turned away from her.


	5. part 5

Part 5

A year passed in my new position and after the first few weeks of unease it actually worked. Not being around her every day, not seeing those eyes and that amazing smile each morning – it eased the pain, a little at least. Initially I took little interest in my new role, perhaps it showed I don't know, but then something in me snapped into place and I embraced the job. I realised far from hating the potential position as head of security I was looking forward to it, it was something I could excel at, something to aim for. And it took my waking thoughts away from her Majesty.

So five years went by, and I trained, and I worked hard, damn hard. King Rupert travelled widely which meant so did I; occasionally Clarisse would accompany him but not very often. She attended to things in Genovia; he travelled far and wide dealing with matters of international importance. Although I would never grow fond of the man I did respect him, and I learnt plenty about negotiation watching him in action.

The only thing I regret is my infidelity during those years as second in command of security. Technically I suppose it isn't even infidelity, yet I slept around, I can't deny it. I met many women as I travelled, but each and every time I woke next to another young lady the guilt shooting through my stomach was insurmountable, her face was there behind my eyes. I thought it might relieve the pain if I found comfort in another's arms, perhaps I would find somebody to rival her in my affections. Afterall she didn't want me and she'd persistently told me to seek love and marriage elsewhere, I knew it wouldn't be easy, I didn't know it would be impossible.

But I became good at it, loving and leaving, I even got a little reputation within the security circle. It isn't something I'm proud of but it is a fact. Many things changed during those years, myself included, Pierre became almost a recluse, hiding out in his church. Philippe, to all our surprise, gave up his chance of a family and began to take over some of his father's responsibilities, especially at home. He loved the country, he believed in its people, and I loved that boy very much, he was going to be a wonderful King.

But you want to know about Clarisse, she changed the most. She was never known for her spontaneous laughter or outbursts of loving affection towards friends or family. Yet occasionally there would be a moment of pure bliss when that smile would brighten up a room, or her kind words would ease the tension of the most awful of moments. She knew what to say in moments of disaster and pain, the people adored her for her honest approach towards them, she never looked down on them, she never judged. But as the years went by she seemed to shrink from view, she would only appear on state occasions or when her presence was truly needed. She was getting a reputation as being cold or aloof, it never occurred to me that the heartache we shared all that time ago was slowly killing her soul.

We hardly spoke anymore; it hurt too much to be alone around her, gone were our conversations on unimportant trivial matters. The kind of conversations friends have, conversations that get you through the week, I suppose when we stopped having them she lost an outlet, I guess she thought she lost a friend.

For her fiftieth birthday Rupert commissioned a fountain for the grounds, her name engraved in the stone base. It would be finished for the birthday party and revealed then and there. It was breathtaking, under the moonlight, lights in the fountain, music playing. I stood on the left hand side of the King, Richard on the right which meant I had a good clear view of Clarisse, I saw the tears she shed during that evening, I saw how Rupert held her hand and swung her around the dance floor, she was glorious, she was majestic, but her smile was empty.

It was the last time I can recall each member of the family being under one roof for a happy occasion, and the only time I can remember Clarisse not actually being overjoyed to be with her sons.

My ten minute break came just after midnight and I took it out on the back balcony, the night was cool, October was Clarisse's birthday month and summer was gone. I was sipping a glass of water, staring out at the fountain which still glowed under the spotlights.

"How are you Joseph?" A soft well-educated voice came out of the darkness.

I turned towards it, swallowing and staring at the far wall for a face.

"Very well ma'am, you?"

She laughed, gently, unconvincing. "Older, quite evidently. How was Switzerland?"

"Good, thank you, good." I stepped closer to her so I could see her face. She was wearing a traditional ball gown but her shoulders were bare to the night air.

"I hear you're doing very well, Rupert is pleased with your progress. You will go on to be Philippe's head of security Joseph, do you realise that?"

"I had hoped, but I don't dare to think too far ahead…"

"Hmm." She stepped past me, leant on the balcony edge.

"I didn't know you used this balcony." I said.

"I usually don't," she shrugged, "it seemed the safest option. Quietest."

"I would have thought you were enjoying the party."

"Oh I am, I am, it's just too much sometimes. Rupert's present is divine."

"It is. Fitting."

She turned to me again. "You think?"

"Yes, beautiful…"

She looked down, away from me.

"I'm afraid I have to go ma'am, my break is almost over."

"Oh I'm sorry to keep you… it's been so long since we talked, properly."

"I know." I didn't say anything more, what was the point in dragging up old feelings? I still hadn't recovered.

Quickly I turned for the door, escaping the moment.

"This is the first time we've been alone in five years Joseph."

She said and I stopped.

"For the best." Was my reply and then I left her there.

Do you think I'm selfish for that? Do you hate me for abandoning her when she was quite obviously seeking my comfort? No more than I hate myself, if I were a stronger man then I would have stayed and to hell with my job, to hell with everyone around us.

Yet something else happened that night that none of us were prepared for, a threat, a threat on our Queen's life. It wasn't taken as serious, not to begin with, a scribbled note of hatred, we had seen them before. But two days later when Clarisse was out on a shopping trip a shot was fired and her new security guard was injured. Thank god she wasn't, I would have never forgiven myself.

For a week we rallied around, security increased ten-fold and the top guards were put in rotation shadowing her majesty. So once again I was back with her, my hours were 8 to 10 in the morning and from 9 until she retired in the evening. She hated the intrusion, she loathed to be watched and followed every step of the day, but there was no other way around it. Our orders came from the top, we did as the King demanded.

On the Thursday I was present as she spent the evening having dinner with Philippe, they were preparing for his majesty's 65th Birthday party the following year, I sometimes forgot just how big the age gap was between our King and Queen.

"What do you think Joseph?" The younger man called across the vast room to me. "Would you prefer a celebration on a far off tropical isle or a Birthday party at home?"

"Sorry sir, I really don't know."

"Oh come on, in your personal opinion."

I glanced at Clarisse but she wasn't looking at me.

"If I had a family sir I would prefer to spend it at home, celebrating with those I loved."

He laughed. "Fair enough, you win Mother, a home celebration it is. I'll set the wheels in motion."

"Thank you dear." She whispered.

He stood, tall and the picture of dignity, bent and kissed her head. "Goodnight. Sleep well."

She smiled, looked up into his face, I witnessed the love in her eyes as she admired her son.

"You too."

I accepted his handshake as he left the room and closed the door after him. For several moments she sat in silence at the table twisting her napkin over. I tried not to watch her, but my eyes betrayed me and I found myself staring at her in the candlelight.

"All this isn't necessary." She said finally, not looking at me.

"Excuse me ma'am."

"Following me around, it isn't necessary."

"For your safety." I said gently, turning my face from her.

The silence resumed, she poured herself more coffee, sipped it once then replaced her cup on the table.

An hour must have ticked by since Philippe left and still she sat there, my back was beginning to ache, I alternated which leg to rest my weight on, told myself stories from my childhood, anything to keep me awake.

"Won't you talk to me…" Her voice was so soft I barely heard it; I turned to look at her. "Tell me what's going on with you."

"I…"

"You don't have to ignore me Joseph, certainly not when we're in the same room together."

"I wasn't ignoring you your majesty, I was doing my job."

"Ahh." She said flippantly. "Is that what it is."

"What would you have me say ma'am?"

"Anything damn it, talk to me about the weather, about the news, about the latest film you've seen, music, books – the things we used to talk about."

"I can't do that."

Her shoulders fell and she leant over the dining table.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away." I could tell from the tone in her voice she was holding back the tears.

I didn't know how to respond, we'd been here before.

"Five years ago Clarisse, don't do this now."

"Oh but I thought I could." She looked at me, leant back in her chair and attempted a smile. "I thought I could do it, thought it would be easy to walk away from you." She stood up finally. "It wasn't."

She moved to the window and folded her hands behind her back.

"So many times I've needed to talk to you, so many things I've wanted to say. How I miss Pierre, how Philippe is changing, growing. That I have a five year old grandchild I've never met, that my marriage has all but fragmented."

"Begging your pardon but it isn't none of my business."

She spun towards me and I thought she might shout but she didn't, she merely smiled again. "No, no it isn't. But I wanted it to be. I miss your council."

"I hardly gave much."

"You gave more than you think," she stepped towards me, slowly. "I think about it all the time, that kiss, do you realise that. One stolen kiss that lasted a few minutes. In the scheme of my fifty years that's nothing is it, so the fact it dominates my thoughts even now is quite devastating."

"Please, don't do this to me." Was all could say to defend my emotions.

"I can't help it," she was close enough now for me to touch her. "I thought I could do it and not fall in love, I thought if I pushed you far enough away I wouldn't fall in love."

"I already was in love, long before that kiss."

"So was I, I just never realised it…"

Her hand reached for my face but I backed away.

"Don't." My voice was sharp, shattering the moment. "I don't want that, I can't deal with that."

She snatched her hand back, took a deep breath regaining her composure. "I'm so sorry, I thought… Goodness I'm sorry, it must be the shock of the shooting, the threats." She began to back away.

"It's not that I don't want to, lord knows the power you have over me but I won't let you do that to me, not again… it took so long for me to recover from the last time."

"Power over you? You make me sound like some witch."

"No," I closed my eyes searching for the words. "I can't allow myself to get too close to you again because I know there'll come a point when you get scared and push me away, and I can't deal with that, I won't be used."

"I would never use you."

"You're my boss, I'm your security, there's a line we can never cross, I realise that now."

A sadness seemed to settle on her face but she nodded her head. "Yes, you're right, I already knew that… I've spent the past five years telling myself that."

She returned to the table and collected her things.

"I think I will retire now Joseph, if you would escort me to my room." Back to business again.

"Of course… your majesty." I tipped my head to her, gripped the door handle ready to open it.

She placed her hand atop of mine, didn't make eye contact with me but said, "I'm proud of you, this job isn't easy, Rupert isn't easy, you're doing exceptionally well."

"Thank you." Was my dull response.

"And I do love you, even though…"

She never finished her sentence, I don't know why, either she was too scared of what she had to say or she simply couldn't find the words. I escorted her to her suite, bid her a goodnight and went to bed myself. It was a restless nights sleep, I dreamt of her coming to my room in the middle of the night and making love to me, and saying those words repeatedly to me. "I do love you, I do love you, I do love you…" Lord knows I loved her, god help me I always would.


	6. part 6

Part 6

In early November King Rupert was called away to Washington. Although no further attacks had been made towards Clarisse it was still only two weeks since the very public shooting and as a result it was decided Richard, head of security, would accompany the King. Joseph however, being second in charge, was to stay with her majesty. Though he argued the point with his superior for quite a while.

"I really don't think it's for the best that I stay…"

"Joe come on, she likes you, and she hates almost every other security member." Richard refilled Joe's glass with Brandy and sat down by the fire.

Joe accepted the glass and moved to the window. "It's not the people, it's the fact she's followed, it's that she hates." He said softly.

"Well, she doesn't have a choice does she, why do these royals not realise its for their own good?"

Joe shrugged; he didn't like getting into conversations like this.

"I've never been to Washington, the experience will be beneficial, I need to know how to handle these situations."

"You'll get the chance don't worry, I'm not retiring just yet." The older man said draining his glass. "So stay here, enjoy being in charge, and for gods sake don't let anything happen to her royal highness."

The snow came two days after they left, it was early that year and heavy. No town went without being hit, almost every major road was closed and it seemed the world shut down.

It was during this that the attack came, unexpected in the middle of the night.

Clarisse had been sleeping for four hours when a maid tore her from her sleep and forced her out of bed.

"We must go ma'am."

"What's going on, is it the boys, has something happened to them?"

"Ma'am please, we must rush, I'm under orders."

Awoken from her sleep and only half dressed Clarisse was drowsy and unsteady on her feet. She was led down dark passageways; routes she never knew existed let alone was familiar with. Then she felt the cold air at her bare ankles, and realised she was being led outside. The snow crunched beneath her feet and a few dark figures were gathered near a car, one of them turned around and approached her.

"Your majesty."

"Joseph…" she breathed finally finding a little comfort.

"None of you thought to get her a coat." He snapped, she'd hardly ever witnessed his annoyance.

He took his jacket off and placed it on her shoulders, ushering her into the back of the car. For the first time in memory he got in next to her, sharply barking orders at those around. Another member of security claimed the front seat next to the driver and the car sped off down the drive.

Clarisse fell back in the seat.

"What's happening, why won't you tell me?" She snapped watching as he continually looked behind them.

"Joseph where are we going, tell me." She continued.

"Not now Clarisse…"

"How dare you!"

"Clarisse, please… we need to do our job."

He noted the worry on her face. "Somewhere safe, please, trust me."

She nodded, then he gripped her shoulder and pushed her down.

A shot whistled past the car and Clarisse finally noticed Joe's gun drawn, he fired down the road and she instinctively covered her ears.

She wasn't sure what happened but she was thrown into the door and Joseph fell against her, the car slid from the road down the bank and she screamed at the pain.

"Quickly, move." Joe said opening the door and pushing her out into the snow. He followed and gripped her hand half pulling her down the bank towards the river.

"The others." She gasped.

"Driver's dead." He said, cold and unfeeling.

"What, we must go back."

"There's nothing to go back for…" He looked over her head and breathed a sigh of relief as Steven raced down towards them.

"Come on."

The three of them continued through the snow, Joe pulled on Clarisse's hand and waded into the river, she almost yelped as the frozen water gripped her legs. Steven was behind her, Joe in front, so she was protected from the full force of the current.

She was half pushed, half pulled up the embankment, her dressing gown and nightwear plastered to her body, Joe's coat huge and heavy on her shoulders. She stumbled, she tripped, twice she almost fell but Joe caught her arm. It was becoming difficult to walk, difficult to breathe, she was so exhausted, she was frozen… yet grateful for Joe's coat in the chill night air but keenly aware of his own well-being. If he was cold he wasn't showing it.

There was a moment of shock and uncertainty when she was hit from behind and fell into Joseph's back. When she glanced back Steven was by her feet, she wanted to scream, terror and realisation hitting at the same time. But Joseph was holding her arm, pulling her away from the body, running with her towards the trees then throwing her in front of him, protecting her body with his own. She fought to hold her nerve.

He pressed her back into the rough bark, his body tight against hers; she could feel his heart thumping against his chest. He never looked at her, he stared past her, looking around, listening, his gun raised at his side. Then he fired into the darkness and she closed her eyes, as there was a thump in the distance. She wondered how he did it, how he knew. But there was no time to ask, again he pulled on her hand and led her through the trees, she felt blind in the night and wondered how he was managing to navigate. She couldn't help but think, two down, two to go.

It seemed an age passed before he allowed her to rest; the sun was just beginning to rise, the light creeping in. She sat on the snow, trembling, shaking with cold but Joe never rested.

"We've got to move again." He finally said standing over her.

"I can't, I can't go any further." She stared at the snow.

"Clarisse it's going to snow again soon, the sky is heavy, we've got to get moving."

"I don't even know where we are."

"Neither do I… yet. We can't stay here."

"What's the point? Two dead, we left them there, how can we, how could you leave your friends like that?" She mumbled.

"Get up!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the floor. "I'll carry you if I have to."

She shook his hand away. "That won't be necessary." She marched past him down the hill, he caught up with her.

"You're my priority, above all else, get you to safety."

She closed her eyes, nodded, and they set off again, though to where neither had any idea.

An hour passed, two, and then they found it, a lodge buried in the snow, hidden away. Clarisse, suddenly finding a burst of energy, ran towards it. Joseph showed no outward sign of relief but inside his heart flipped. The snow was piled at the door and try as he might Joseph couldn't open it.

"It seems nobody is home." She said watching him.

"Apparently not." He took a deep breath. "They'll have to forgive me." He murmured as he found a suitable rock and smashed the window. He climbed in and unlocked the door for her.

She stood in the hall in front of him, pale, shaking, shocked.

"We have to get you dry, don't want to develop a fever." He said grasping her shoulders. He longed to hold her to him, to let go of the anxiety in his chest, she was alive, they were alive.

But instead he let go of her. "I'll get a fire going."

"Thank you." She tried to smile but instead her face collapsed in tears. "Thank you." She flung herself into his arms, buried her face into his soaking sweater.

He allowed himself to close his eyes for a second and rest his hands on her waist, and then he caught himself, stopped the flow of affection before it took over.

"It's my job, come," he held her back from him. "Go take a bath, find something warm to change into and I'll get that fire started."

This time she did smile. "Do you think they have tea?"

"I'm sure they do."

He watched her climb the unfamiliar stairs, lingered there for too long then went about lighting a fire andsurveying the building.

Twenty minutes later she returned to find him banging the receiver down on the phone. He glanced up at her watching him.

"No signal, lines must be down."

She rubbed her arms, shivered.

"Go, sit by the fire, are you feeling better?"

"Yes, you need to change Joseph."

"Not yet, I'm not sure we haven't been followed."

"But you shot him, didn't you."

"It doesn't mean there weren't more behind him."

"Can you tell me now, what happened at the palace?"

"The grounds were breached, gunfire, a couple of our men were hit and somebody got into the palace, my only thought was to get you out…" His voice broke. "I thought it was the safest thing, I was wrong."

"No." She moved towards him.

"Yes. We should have stayed, you would have been protected by more than me, my foolish pride, I wanted to be the boss… I'm sorry."

"No, you saved me."

"But not Steven, or the driver… god I don't even know his name."

"They were aiming for me. It's my fault."

He shook his head. "No."

"Yes."

"Are we going to argue over this all night?" He smiled and she laughed.

"No."

"Good, they have tea, I checked."

She laughed again. "I'll make it, you need to change, please…"

"Alright."

When he returned downstairs she was already asleep on the couch in front of the fire.

Reluctantly he sat down in the armchair, he wanted to be alert, wanted to pace around the rooms looking for any signs of followers, but he also knew that he was physically exhausted. And to get ill now would be disastrous, he couldn't leave her unprotected, his aim now was to get in touch with his team and get a helicopter out to them. The clean up could start when she was safe somewhere, under twenty-four hour armed guard.

He felt his eyes slip shut and forced them open again, stared at the fire, his eyes got heavy and closed again. He must have drifted off, just for a second, this time he shook his head, leant forward in the chair so his position wasn't as comfortable and stared at her sleeping form. She looked better, the colour had returned to her cheeks.

He stood, placed a hand on her forehead, no fever, let's hope it stays that way. What a way to celebrate your fiftieth birthday, death threats followed by this. Fifty, he couldn't believe it; he would be joining her soon, just over a month away. He knew he wasn't in peak condition anymore, he felt it in his bones after a night like the one he'd just had. Yet to him it seemed she just got more beautiful, her face had filled out as she aged and it suited her, those eyes seemed brighter, full of life and knowledge. Her mouth was fuller, that amazing mouth… "Oh god." He whispered.

He placed a hand on his own forehead, no fever but definitely signs of a headache breaking through. It was time to get organised.

There was a basket in the corner of the room, he opened it and dug out blankets and wrapped Clarisse up on the couch. He drew the blinds shut, closed the curtains then went outside and circled the house locking each shutter, if the lodge looked locked up for the winter perhaps they wouldn't attract attention. There were bolts on each shutter, rusty, obviously not used since last winter, he surmised these homeowners had left in a hurry, caught unsuspecting by the early heavy snowfall. This was a summerhouse, a retreat; they hadn't prepared it for winter lockdown just yet.

Once the windows were secure he repeated his move inside, pulled the blinds shut, locked out the outside world. He had two guns; he checked each, reloaded them. Went to the kitchen and searched the cupboards, luckily there was food, nothing fresh but dry pasta, biscuits, tins of fruit, jars of sauce and in the deep freeze he found meat. He took something out, hoping it was chicken and left it to defrost overnight, they needed to eat afterall.

There was no milk for madam's tea but he found the powdered kind in the cupboard, that would have to do, and there was a box of lemon tea bags, she could drink that without milk. He could make do with water, if there was coffee he could drink it black. In the bathroom he found a first aid box and took aspirin for his thudding head and aching body. He recalled Clarisse being slammed against the car door when it slid off the road; he needed to check her body for injury, possibly bruising around her ribs.

There were two bedrooms, only one with a bed, looked as if they were decorating. The small room, clearly the guest room, had a smallish bed along one wall. He repositioned it, put a chair in front of the door, that way she could sleep and he could sit and watch the door. If they were stuck there that long, he just had to glance outside to realise they were there for at least a night, maybe two. It was dangerously cold outside, and with more snowfall on the way the chance of any vehicles passing by seemed remote.

The larger bedroom was practically empty, the walls bare, paint cans piled in one corner. He found a key, locked the door and dropped the key into his pocket. There was no attic, no garage, the lodge was secure.

"Joseph…" a panicked voice came from downstairs. "Where are you?"

He ran downstairs, back through to the lounge. "What is it?" He instinctively raised his gun.

"I didn't know where you were."

"What?"

"I didn't know where you were, and woke and you were gone and I just…" Her words were mumbled, confused, she watched the annoyance on his face. "I'm sorry, I was scared…" She caught a gasp of breath, fought back tears. "I'm scared alright. I've been Queen for thirty years and this has never happened, never…"

"I know, we live in a different kind of world now." He put his gun down and knelt in front of the couch. "I know you're scared, but I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you."

"Because it's your job." She stated plainly.

He stopped for a second, watched her face. "Yes, it's my job. I need you to help me Clarisse, I've locked the house down, secured it, I found food. We're gonna have to wait this storm out, keep trying the phone, every chance you get, we'll get help, transport and get you out of here."

"Their bodies."

"Sorry?"

She swallowed. "They deserve a burial."

He glanced down at the floor. "Don't think about that now, I don't want you to dwell on that."

"I can't…"

He caught her flailing hands. "Clarisse, we need to get through this, don't think about it…"

She nodded mutely.

"Good."

"This is your training." She swallowed again, her throat sore and dry. "How you work."

He wanted to nod, to assure her he could deal with this, that it was standard issue. But it wasn't, he never expected to be in this situation, security at the palace though strict had never had to be brutal, this was new territory, unexpected and ugly.

"I need to check your body."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You could be injured, I need to check. Are you in any pain, you hit the door quite badly, anything ache? Any bruising?"

"A little, here." She touched her waist. "And on my hip, top of my leg. But nothing more, nothing life threatening."

"Alright. Can I just?" He indicated her ribs and bid her to sit back on the couch.

Tenderly he placed his spread hands on her ribcage, traced his fingers down feeling for any signs of trauma. She didn't flinch at his touch, he found nothing wrong.

"Seems fine, now need to feed you."

She straightened herself up, pulled a blanket over her shoulders. "You don't have to wait on me."

"I know, tea, do you want it plain or with powdered milk?"

She grimaced. "Oh neither."

"Lemon tea?"

"Yes, I suppose…"

"Food, I mean I found plenty."

"Would it be easier if I looked myself?"

"Probably."

"Then I will, though I'll admit I'm not very hungry."

"You need to eat."

"So do you." She said sincerely.

In the small kitchen she took the time to look around, noted the family pictures hung on the wall. Some couple lived here, loved here.

Joseph was at the stove working out how to light it, he brushed past her, caught her arm.

"Sorry." He said over his shoulder.

"It's okay." She stepped to the side of him, watching at he figured it out. "I think I can manage that." She said as the stove came to light.

"Seems pretty straightforward. How are you at cooking?"

She smiled. "You need to ask?"

"Thought so." He looked up at her.

She stepped closer, rested a hand on his cheek, it was the first time she'd ever done that. "You look exhausted Joseph, you are the one who needs to rest."

"I told you once, you are the priority."

"Not here, go sit down, take a moment."

"I can't, I need to keep you safe."

"You have." She glanced behind him to the kitchen table where his gun lay. "If I can light a stove then I can point that thing and shoot if I need to."

"I don't want you to."

"But I can, I will."

Reluctantly he tooka gun from its holder, it was smaller, lighter. "You keep this."

She took it, turned it over in her hand. "I can fire a flaming arrow through a hoop, I can use this tiny thing."

Despite the situation he smiled. "I don't doubt it. I'll just have a few minutes in there."

"You'll have a lot of minutes, you've taken the same journey as I have, we're the same age, you're not superman."

"Aren't I?"

She shook her head.

"Then I'll take your orders."

"And I will attempt to find us something to eat. Just be patient with me."

"I always am." He whispered as he walked away.

"Joseph…" She called after him.

"Yes."

"I'm glad it's you here."

"In a surreal way so am I, I don't think I could survive not knowing where you were or if you were safe, at least here I know."

She nodded her head, smiled. "Go rest."


	7. part 7

Part 7

Despite his protests to the contrary Joseph slept as soon as he sat down. Clarisse, deciding she couldn't go too far wrong with soup, left his in the kitchen. She ate; she looked over the room, shewashed her dishes. Went to the bathroom and cleaned up, she found one new toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet, perhaps there were more in the other but Joseph would have to look his self, she was far too tired now.

Her nightwear had been drying in front of the fire and was still damp, she took off the stranger's skirt she was wearing but left the sweater on, wrapping a blanket around her lower half. Joseph still slept when she returned to the lounge; she poked and prodded at the fire hoping it would last the night. She had no desire to sleep alone, upstairs in that strange bed, instead she returned to the couch, piled the pillows up for her head, threw several of the blankets over herself.

Once hidden beneath she removed the one that was tied around her waist, she reached over to the coffee table and retrieved the gun she'd placed there, she contemplated slipping it beneath her pillow but then became paranoid it would go off in the night. Instead she laid it on the floor, rested her handatop of it, listening to every sound round about. The fire crackled, Joseph's breathing, she looked over to him, her eyes were adjusted to the darkness now and she could see his chest rising and falling. There were scratches on his face; she noticed it earlier, several of them deep, she wondered if he'd had sense enough to bathe them properly.

Gradually her eyelids got heavy and she gave in to sleep, welcoming it finally. Her hand left the gun on the floor and retreated beneath the warmth of the blankets. She slept.

* * *

Joseph crept out of the back door as soon as sunlight dawned, collected more wood, dragged it behind him in an attempt to cover his tracks. He restocked the fire, in the kitchen he searched the cupboards and found coffee in an airtight container; it smelled alright so he made a large pot of it. Then he went back to the lounge, there was a polished oak wood cabinet at one side but it was locked, he sat on the floor and fiddled with it until it finally gave way and let him in. Alcohol, spirits, fine cut crystal glasses, he looked it all over, found a bottle of Baileys and took it with him.

He loathed to wake Clarisse but it was getting on for 10:30 and if she slept all day then she'd be awake all night, and it really should be the other way around. So he touched her shoulder, the blanket slipped off revealing her bare shoulder, he'd seen it before, she wore enough low cut gowns, but there was something about being in a small room watching her sleep that was more incredibly intimate than watching her being twirled around a ballroom.

"Clarisse, it's getting late." He said gently placing a mug on the table.

"Mmm, I was dreaming…" She mumbled then shot up in bed. "Don't stand on the gun!" She shouted grabbing his hand.

"Don't worry I moved it hours ago, must take you through the basics."

"Oh, thank you."

She rested back against the pillows. "Morning Joseph."

He couldn't resist a smile. "Good morning, here, I made you this."

She took the mug gratefully, then smelled it and looked over at him.

"Coffee, with a drop of alcohol in it, so don't drink too quickly."

"I don't really enjoy coffee."

"Seems you have no choice." He said bending to mess with the fire again.

"It's cold in here this morning."

"I know, snowed again last night."

"Oh no."

"Partly good, our tracks will have been covered from any potential followers, but also from any potential rescue teams."

"I was thinking of my flowers, the staff will forget to take care of them during the ice."

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "You think of flowers at a time like this, they're in a greenhouse."

"They still need care."

"Good god." He shook his head. "Are you hungry?"

"Not yet."

"You're difficult." He complained.

"As always." She swallowed her coffee, it didn't taste that bad. "It's so dark in here."

"I locked the shutters, we don't want any one peeking in."

"But it's dark."

"It's for safety… Clarisse you really…" He tightened his fist, then the moment passed and he waved it waved it away. "Nothing."

"No tell me, I'm really what?"

"Nothing."

"Ungrateful, selfish, spoilt."

"Unrealistic was my sentiment, this could be a life and death situation."

She shrugged. "We're still alive."

"Damn it Clarisse listen to me."

"No you listen!" She raised her voice, she hardly ever did that. "The reality is yes I should be dead, we should, but we're not. I'm sitting by the fire, warm and content, drinking bloody coffee with some creamy whisky type thing, I have fine company… it's hardly out and out terror."

He was silent watching her wait for his reaction. "There's more of that in the kitchen, when you're ready." He skulked from the room, hands in pockets.

She gave him a few minutes alone then followed him.

"What would you like to do today?" She asked watching him stir something on the stove.

He glanced over at her, raised an eyebrow, looked down at her makeshift 'skirt'.

"Nice outfit."

She smiled. "Thank you, I feel awkward about wearing this woman's clothes."

"I'm sure she won't mind her Queen borrowing a dress."

"Perhaps." She walked towards him. "What are you making?"

"Supposed to be a casserole, we've yet to see how it tastes. There were root vegetables in the pantry. Thought I might aswell make it and then, well its there ready when you want lunch."

"Thank you." She looked at the cookbook open on the table. "Perhaps I could find something to make, something simple." She flicked through the pages. "Are there more books?"

"Plenty, in the lounge."

"Then I think I'll read today."

"Alright." He murmured.

"Alright." She watched him, he didn't turn to regard her, kept on stirring the pot, adding pepper. She folded her hands together, remained a moment more then left him alone.

She didn't like this feeling between them, this unease, yet she couldn't force him to talk to her, couldn't force him into a conversation with her. She returned to the couch, tidied the pillows and blankets, stared at the fire and remembered their last conversation, when was it – only a week ago?

She'd told him she loved him, that she was proud of him, and he rebuffed her. He told her she had power over him, that he couldn't trust himself with her… it was too much, too messy. She couldn't figure a way back for them, not now; their friendship was slowly disintegrating.

* * *

The day went slowly, Clarisse chose a thick, heavy book from the shelf and remained on the couch for the majority of the day reading. She left Joseph alone, she occasionally stopped to talk with him or go and make coffee, but he seemed to want the silence, the solitude.

Around four she went for a bath, to her it still seemed like invasion to be taking over this couple's home but the reality was she needed towels, soap, shampoo, cream… So she forced down the feel of guilt and raided the bathroom cabinets, the continuing burning of the fire had heated the water, she found bath essence and decided to lay there for a while relaxing.

After she rinsed her hair, found a basic cream and dabbed a little on her face. Her nightwear was now clean and dry and part of her felt relieved to put her own clothes back on.

She went downstairs, the wooden stairs creaked as she made her way down, there was a wonderful aroma in the air, Joseph's simple casserole had infused the air with the fragrance of good wholesome cooking. She peeked through the kitchen doorway but it was empty. And dark in there too, a candle on the table offering the only light.

When she entered the lounge Joseph looked up from the couch, snapped the book shut in his hands and dropped it to the table. He swung his legs down and rubbed his eyes.

"Nice bath?"

"Yes thank you, what do you think of the book?" She asked moving to sit by the fire and dry her hair.

"Seems okay." He shrugged. "I didn't read that much. I see you've got quite far."

"Not much else to do." She stared into the fire.

"No." He leant back on the couch, closed his eyes. "Started snowing again, I went out about twenty minutes ago to check. Phone is still dead."

She nodded; he couldn't see her of course, his eyes still closed.

"You've been quiet today." She whispered.

"Hmm." He mumbled.

She looked at him, exhausted; his body was relaxing back into the soft warmth of the couch. His handsome face at ease, the tension drifting away as his mind welcomed sleep.

"Why don't you go take a bath? It might relax you."

"Maybe." He muttered.

She crawled across to the couch, knelt up towards him, as she leant closer to his body her stomach brushed his knees and his eyes shot open. Her fingers touched his cheek and he pulled back out of her reach.

"Don't do that."

"Joseph. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine."

She reached for his face again but he caught her wrist, loosely, then let go and tried to move away. She held his hands in hers, studied the scars there.

"You hurt yourself." She turned his left hand over, looked at the soreness of his palm.

"It was dark, I caught it on a tree."

"It looks painful."

"It's fine, I'm fine." He snatched his hand away.

"Why do you keep doing this?"

"Why do you? Just leave me Clarisse…"

She sat back and allowed him to stand and put some distance between them.

"You must really hate me." She whispered.

He turned slowly, looked at her on her knees in front of the fire staring up at him, bright beautiful blue eyes searching his face for answers.

"How could I hate you?"

"For putting you through this; for allowing us to kiss and then sending you away like some naughty school boy. For ignoring you for five years and then suddenly declaring my love for you."

"I don't hate you, I'm terrified of you."

"Terrified?"

"Because you have the ability to reduce me to this." He held his hands up, weak and completely at her mercy. "You confuse me, I don't understand what you're feeling or thinking a lot of the time."

"You understand me more than anyone ever has!" She snapped getting to her feet. "I don't understand this, how can I feel this? After all this time alone, all these years playing this role and then you appear and suddenly it changes, I change, and I don't know how to deal with it. I can't do that to Rupert, not after all this time…"

"I can't hear that, don't _you_ understand that! I may not be a King but my feelings and my emotions are just as important, my heart… I won't allow you to manipulate me again, to toss me aside when you can't deal with how intense it's getting. I have self respect too."

"Joseph I'm sorry…"

"No, I don't want apologies, no more." He shook his head, backed away to the door. "Perhaps I will take that bath." He said quietly and then quickly left the room.

She dropped onto the couch. So that was it, he thought she was manipulating him, he thought she viewed him as inferior, as unimportant… no wonder she'd lost his friendship. Perhaps she didn't deserve it at all; perhaps they were better off as enemies.

The tears slid down her face and she hastily wiped them. No, never enemies, he had her heart; there wasn't one part of her that would ever wish him malice.

She brushed her now dry hair, then went through to the kitchen and washed her hands. She was hungry now, she remembered how to light the stove, put the casserole in to warm. For the first time she ventured into the pantry, found rows and rows of wine and selected one. Things could be replaced later, whomever the lodge belonged to they would clearly be thanked and their service valuably repaid.

In the dining part of the lounge she laid the table, lit several more candles to bring some light to the dark room. Two dishes were put out and she sat and waited for Joseph to reappear.

She'd drunk almost a glass of wine when he finally re-emerged, clean washed and looking far better now. He'd changed his sweater, borrowed one from the upstairs closet, his feet were bare and he dug his toes in the carpet as he took in the laid table.

She looked up at him, determined.

"I won't argue with you Joseph, whatever you think of me…"

"Clarisse…"

She held up her hand. "No, listen. You're my friend, I care deeply for you, we don't know how many more days we're going to be here and I refuse to argue with you for the duration of it. So let's just agree to get on alright. And at least eat together when we need to."

He nodded, smiled. "The table looks wonderful."

"Thanks."

"But I think dinner may be burning."

"Oh god!" She clambered up from her seat and rushed to the kitchen closely followed by a laughing Joseph.

"Oh…" She grabbed a towel and opened the door. "Ohhh I've ruined it." She grabbed the pot attempting to lift it out.

"Careful." Joe warned and grabbing another towel took hold of the pot from her and lifted it from the oven.

"I'm sorry, all your hard work."

He lifted the lid. "It's fine, look it's fine." He dipped a finger in. "Ah, thoroughly cooked." He quipped licking the sauce off. "Perfect, it's perfect."

She smiled. "You're polite."

"Honest."

"That I know."

He smiled warmly. "Shall we eat?"

"Lets."


	8. part 8

Part 8

"Ha, I win!" Clarisse declared laying down her final card and clapping her hands together.

"Well done, making a come back."

"You bet." She smiled proudly, gathering up the cards and restacking them.

Joseph placed another mark on the scrap of paper.

"Six to four." He pointed out.

They had been playing cards for the past hour or so, dinner was long since over, their dishes abandoned in the kitchen. Joe had found cards earlier in the day and suggested they play to pass the time. He didn't realise it would actually turn out to be so much fun. It wasn't often he witnessed Clarisse's joyful expression or enrapturing laughter, and of late her warm fun side seemed to be getting further and further lost.

He caught her fingers as he quickly dealt the cards again, she smiled at him as he drew his hand back and apologised. At times he forgot who she was, what she was, his Queen, he was playing cards with the Queen. Other times he was keenly aware of her status, and his lack of it. There was no right for him to touch her unless directed to do so, yet he swore sometimes she would look at him like she longed for his touch, perhaps that was masculine pride taking over.

"Alright, final game." He said looking over his hand. "My eyes are getting heavy."

"Hmm, more likely you're scared I'm going to win."

"We'll see."

"Do you play much?"

He shrugged. "Occasionally, when we're travelling a bunch of us get together for a game. I used to play as a child."

"Really?" She gasped. "So did I, I would sneak into my father's private parties and join a table. And I was rather good for my age." She said proudly.

"Well I never gate crashed any private parties but I earnt plenty of pocket money that way." He said smiling.

"Hmm," She glanced up at him studying his cards. "Tell me about your childhood." She said gently.

"Not much to tell, an only child, spoilt by my grandparents."

"Your parents?"

"My father was in the navy, so hardly ever home, my mother a school teacher. You knew that." He looked over at her smiling face.

She nodded. "Yes I knew that, History right."

"Correct."

"I met her. She was lovely."

"She said the same of you, she was overwhelmed though." He leant back in his chair.

"She was very smart, very funny, if I recall correctly."

"You do." He said proudly.

"You still miss her." She stated gently. "I miss my mother too, especially at times like…" She stopped herself, looked at the table and caught her breath.

"Times like this?" He queried.

"Times like, times like the ones I've been going through, it's comforting to have that support, to have somebody who you can go to and tell anything and they will offer help, advice, love."

"I know what you mean."

"If I'm honest that's part of the reason I like being with you so much."

He glared at her. "You promised not to do this."

"But we are friends, and friends share things."

He threw his cards down. "You see the thing is Clarisse how can we be friends?" he held his hands up frustrated. "How can we when you're… who you are and I'm, your security."

"It doesn't make me some kind of leper."

"I'm not saying that. But it's not like I'm gonna take you to the bar on a Friday night for a beer."

"You don't like beer."

"That's not the point."

She laughed.

"Clarisse…"

"Alright, I'm sorry. Perhaps I had one too many glasses of wine."

"Enough for tonight." He said gathering the cards away.

"Alright, enough." She said softly.

He left the room whilst she changed and got comfortable on the couch. When she called him back in he extinguished most of the candles, leaving one burning on the dining table, the other on the mantelpiece.

"Goodnight." He whispered glancing at her.

"I'm not tired yet."

"Sure you are, you know I checked the bedroom, you could sleep up there."

"I'd rather not be alone." She shivered beneath the blankets.

"I understand."

He took his gun from his pocket, placed it on the coffee table. It unnerved her; it brought back the reality of their situation.

"Do you think they'll find us soon?"

"I hope so." He stated kneeling by the fire.

"Do you really?" She whispered.

"Of course." He turned to look at her face, shadowed in the firelight. "Don't you?"

She shrugged. "Of course, I'm sure everyone is frantic. But it's easy to forget when we're not there… It isn't often I'm allowed to just be me."

"I know."

"I know you know." She rested her hand beneath her cheek. "How many times have I cried on your shoulder?"

"Not that many." He glanced away again, embarrassed,

"Why are you turning away from me, why now, when we're alone, completely isolated alone."

"Ha, because this is far more dangerous than kissing in the palace."

"No reminders of duty."

"You are a constant reminder of duty."

"Oh thanks." She turned onto her back, looked up at the shapes cast on the ceiling. "I thought I escaped that role with you."

"At times you do, other times the reminder is a little too harsh." He lay down on the floor in front of the fire, a second or two of silence then a pillow hit him in the face. "Hey!"

"You'll need that." She said sleepily.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome." She closed her eyes, was slipping into sleep.

He folded his hands beneath his head, stared up at the same shapes on the ceiling.

"Third day as 'missing' tomorrow." He stated.

She sighed. "Joseph…"

"Yes."

"When we return promise me you won't ignore me any longer."

"Hmm, I promise." He smiled, listened to her breathing slow as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Joseph was outside when he heard a scream; he slipped and slid across the snow as he tried to race inside. He trampled ice down the hall and into the lounge, his gun drawn ready to protect.

Clarisse was on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, shaking, staring at nothing.

"What the hell is it?" he said stunned, looking around, scanning the room for the threat that had stunned her.

"Clarisse!" He demanded.

She swallowed and finally looked up at him. "Nothing… a dream, nothing."

"A dream?"

"Yes, I… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I'm sorry."

"Clarisse." He whispered bending down to her.

"I need…" She covered her mouth. "Oh god I need the bathroom."

She raced upstairs, Joseph was close behind her but greeted with a slammed door in his face. He heard Clarisse throwing up inside, after a few seconds he went downstairs and poured a glass of water then returned and waited for her.

"Clarisse." He whispered, gently tapping on the door. "Are you alright, shall I come in?"

"I'm alright, I'll be a second." Her voice sounded meek.

He sat down and listened as she washed her face then finally she opened the door and came out. He hastily stood and handed her the glass of water.

"Thank you." She sipped it. "I'm sorry, I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be, what was it? Do you feel ill?" He placed a hand on her forehead.

"No, it was the dream I think…"

"About the attack."

"It was mixed… partly, Steven being shot and how it felt when he fell… I saw him frozen out there in the snow and it was just…" She gulped back tears, trying to remain strong.

"Hey, come on." Hesitantly he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't do that, don't think about it."

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have to try and block it out. Would you like me to get anything for you?"

"No, funnily enough I'm not hungry." She glanced at him nervously, partly ashamed.

"Are you sure its nothing more, you've not got a fever or anything."

"It was just shock Joseph, that's all, shock." She shrugged. "The reality of events sinking in… I suppose I was beginning to think I was on some kind of holiday. Yet people are dead. For me."

He sat down on the top step and she next to him. "It was the promise they made, the oath they took."

"To die for your Queen, I hardly call it an oath," she shook her head. "It's wrong, my life has no more value than theirs."

"In the eyes of the Lord no, but to the people of Genovia…"

"Would you do it, I mean honestly, don't tell me yes just because duty dictates you should. In your heart would you really consider dying for me?"

"Without a second thought yes."

She stared into his eyes, searching his emotions.

"Yes. And not for duty." Without thinking he rested his hand on her pale cheek, she was cold to the touch. "You should rest."

"Do you love me Joseph?" She blurted out.

He dropped his hand, looked away from her; their situation was hardly romantic, hardly appropriate.

"You know I do, you shouldn't have to ask."

"And I love you."

"I know that too."

"So why are we doing this, ignoring each other, pushing the other away when all I want is with you."

"You know aswell as I do that rules and hierarchy…"

"But not here, none of that here."

He suddenly felt angry with her. "Is that what you want, to screw around with me here and then forget it when we go home? Is that it?"

He stormed down the stairs but she followed him, spilling water as she went.

"I thought you wanted that too." She shouted as she followed him in to the kitchen.

He turned to her, eyes blazing but his voice was unsteady, unclear. "That is nothing _like_ what I want."

He walked towards her, she backed away, hitting a wall and stopped.

"Do you really think sleeping with you, sex, is all I want? For gods sake Clarisse if it was that easy don't you think I'd have walked away years ago. You're the only woman I've ever really loved, my entire life... And you have no idea how that feels…"

"I…"

He held a hand up. "No, because if you knew you would never suggest we could forget everything while we're here and simply fuck."

"Joseph!"

"Is that what you want?" He stepped closer to her, staring at her shocked face.

"No, no that's not what I want."

He wanted to say more but didn't, instead he turned away and went through the house to the back door. He unbolted it, went out into the snow, no shoes, no jacket, the harsh elements whipped around him. He wanted to scream, she frustrated him so, she made him so fucking angry. How did she have that power over him? How could she do it so easily, how could she think love was something that could be settled with sex? He'd learnt in his twenties that love was much more than sex… she'd never had that. Guilt hit him as he realised she'd never had that; to her this was the learning curve.

He took a deep breath, felt his lungs expand as they took in the freezing air, a pain in his chest. Suddenly his body became aware of the cold and turned to go back in, she was standing by the door watching him.

He glanced at the floor before making his way towards her. Tears on her face.

"I'm sorry." She mouthed.

He placed his hands on her face. "No, I'm the one who's sorry."

"I don't know how to deal with this, I thought it was what you wanted… I wanted, I am willing…" She mumbled appearing to him like a child lost. "I've never known this."

"I know." He led her inside then closed the door behind them, bolting it again. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you." He murmured. "For the things I said."

"You have no need to apologise." She gripped his hand in hers forcing him to look at her. "I'm sorry I underestimated you…"

"Women tend to do that about men, I've gotten used to it over the years." He smiled weakly. "What I want from you isn't purely physical Clarisse. Hell that would be easier to deal with."

She nodded, "I understand." Her eyes closed and she shook her head. "I'm embarrassed now, I'm fifty years old and I'm struggling to deal with raging hormones."

He smiled. "Most people go through that in their younger years."

"I suppose they do." She glanced away from him. "I'm cold, is the fire burning?"

"It should be." She rubbed her arms and walked away from him heading into the lounge, he thought of the young fragile Clarisse entering the palace for the first time, surrendering her innocent body to her new husband. That wasn't love, she didn't know love.

He went to the kitchen and made coffee then took it in to the lounge, seated himself on the floor next to her in front of the fire.

"Thank you. You really have been wonderful Joseph I'm not sure I could have done this alone, in fact I know I couldn't."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, you're stronger than most people think."

"The cooking? I hate to cook, I'd have starved if it weren't for you."

"I'll grant you on that." He smiled, leant back against the couch sipping his coffee.

"What do we do, when we return? How can we deal with this?" She whispered, almost afraid of what his response might be.

"I'm afraid the ball is in your court there my dear, as they say."

She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"I'll do whatever you wish." He shrugged, "If its better for me to leave then I will."

"No, no never that, I need you. If these past five years have taught me anything it's that I need you now more than ever. Each day seems to leave me more drained than the last, I need your support. You're the only person I can talk to… really talk to."

His breath was shaky as he reached a hand out to her; she grasped it and squeezed it forcefully. "Stay with me."

"Whatever happens." He smiled.

She sat beside him, pulled the blanket from the couch and covered their legs.

"Are you hungry yet?"

"A little." She replied. "What do we have?"

"I'm not sure, you know right now what I really fancy?"

"Tell me?" She smiled, enjoying the light heartedness of their conversation.

"Cheese and biscuits and fresh fruit."

"And wine too I guess." She smiled.

"That would help, though it's a little early."

"I suppose, what type of cheese do you like?"

"Blue, any type of strong blue."

"Soft French blue." She added relaxing back into the cushions. "Red or white wine?"

"Red, you?"

"Champagne." She smiled.

"Of course, the lady likes Champagne, of course."

She laughed. "Music?"

"Anything, from classical and opera right down to good old rock 'n' roll."

"Art?"

"Not that bothered, if it looks nice then I'll say so, beyond that…" He shrugged. "Am I uncultured?"

"No, its refreshing to meet somebody who just doesn't give a damn." She smiled. "First kiss?"

"Ah now we're getting to it, 15 years old on a hot summers day, eating ice-cream in the garden with her."

"Her?"

"Louisa, my best friend since I was ten. Married an architect, had three children."

"How lovely. You never wanted that, children?"

"I never really had time to stop and think about it. You anyway, your first kiss."

"Rupert." She said honestly. "18. Very boring I'm afraid."

"You could never be boring."

"Some might disagree."

"Hmm…" he breathed deeply. "So what would you like to eat?"

"Right now if I could have anything?"

He nodded.

"Erm, Tea, of course."

"Oh of course." He smiled.

"An English Tea, with scones, clotted cream and strawberry jam."

"Very nice, if not a little sickly."

She reached across and folded her fingers with his, without a word, without even looking at him, as simple and natural as breathing in and out.

He looked down at their entwined hands, at the tone of her skin, the finely manicured polished nails chipped from their exertions of three nights ago. The lines, the silvery veins at her wrist, how delicate and small her hand looked against his, how beautiful. Then the diamond on her finger, huge and to him grotesque, swallowing up her delicateness.

"When we get home," she stated. "We must share Tea one afternoon."

"Perhaps we should wait until the summer, when the strawberries are fresh and sweet."

She turned her head to regard him, a lopsided grin on her face. "You continue to surprise me, summer it is, a date so to speak." She took in his sad expression. "Or perhaps not."

"Perhaps not."

"Friends having Tea." She squeezed his hand questioning.

He nodded; he didn't have the heart to say that he never believed it would happen, that it would never leave this room. That this forging of a relationship was on a road to nowhere.

"I've never felt like this." She whispered, suddenly afraid of her words. "I've never known this."

He didn't speak; hardly dare breathe for fear of upsetting her looseness of tongue.

"I've told you before, I feel so alone at times, so isolated. And the strange thing is I've never dared admit that to myself before, let alone anybody else. I feel I could tell you anything, I feel you are more part of me now… and each day it grows and becomes more. And I'm sorry I don't know how to express it very well."

"Clarisse, you express it beautifully."

"I can't let go of your hand, I'm afraid of what will happen if I do, I'm afraid of what will happen if I don't."

"You know I love you, and I always have…"

She closed her eyes, felt hot tears sting in the corner then trickle down her face, stopping on her chin and dripping to her neck. Joseph watched them fall, didn't attempt to stop them, perhaps it was good to cry every now and then, to cry over something important. As he watched her he realised now there was now turning back, not after all that had been said and passed between them here. He had the feeling of being lost… her hand still clung to his, warm and comforting, offering a lifeline.


	9. part 9

_Whenever I plunge my arm, like this,  
In a basin of water, I never miss  
The sweet sharp sense of a fugitive day  
Fetched back from its thickening shroud of gray. (T. Hardy)_

Part 9

Clarisse submerged her hands into the hot soapy water, it seemed she hadn't washed dishes since being a child. Fond memories of standing on a chair to reach the sink and wash her teacup flooded back, at her Grandmother's house, that warm smell of home cooking surrounding her, freshly baked cookies and bread, warm milk before bedtime. Security and calmness and a comforting love.

She smiled to herself, dipped her head and closed her eyes recalling the delicate scent of her Grandmother's soap, lavender soap on her skin. How her hands were soft and almost moulded into shape, they had always struck the young Clarisse as being the most beautiful pair of hands. Not glamorous, not covered in polish and jewels. They were quite simply kind and caring, and so many times they had helped heal a grazed knee or wipe away a tear. Memories of staying at her Grandmother's house were always filled with delight, she wondered if Amelia might ever feel that way about her. She had missed out on so many years already, so many nuances of growing up Clarisse hadn't been present to witness.

"Something on your mind?" Joseph asked quietly. He stood slightly behind her, drying the dishes that she washed.

"Just thinking about my Grandmother, remembering doing the dishes for her, that's all."

"Ahh."

"I wondered if my Granddaughter might ever feel that way about me, if she'll ever know me at all." She placed another bowl on the drainer.

Joseph picked it up. "Perhaps one day you'll be able to catch up on those things."

"Perhaps, I know it's for the best, and I'd never tell Rupert, or even Philippe actually… but I do hate the decision to keep her in the dark, it would be nice to have a little girl to spoil, having both boys I never got to dress them up in pretty pink dresses."

Joseph laughed. "I think they might have had a few complaints."

"I think so too… oh!" She cursed as she dropped a cup into the bowl and the bubbles hit her on the nose.

"Now there's a sight." Joseph dabbed her with the towel and, laughing, she turned back to the basin.

He stepped closer and took the cup from her hand to dry. The scent of her hair caught him as he got closer, he felt an overwhelming urge to close his eyes and bury his face there in the scent. To drift away in the joy of being so close to her, of being so intimate with her. The object of his affections, the cause of so many sleepless nights right there, inches away from his touch.

She stepped back as she reached for a plate from the side and caught his toe with her heel.

"Sorry."

"That's alright, small working area."

As he moved behind her he was struck again by the simple beauty of her neck, the elegant flow to her shoulders, slender and graceful. The curve of her breasts… oh were they just talking about her being a Grandmother?

Unbidden he moved closer to her again, no dishes in his hand just the towel. Once more he caught her scent, that fragrant aroma that he had only inhaled in brief gasps previously, for even at their most intimate over the years he had never granted himself the time to truly stop and wallow in the warmth of her perfume. It cascaded around him now as a waterfall might, dripped into his every sense and each nerve was alight with it.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, ran his thumb down her neck. A slight gasp of breath was the only sign she had felt him, she didn't move, didn't stop washing the last plate in her hand. Yet when he stepped closer she lifted her head slightly, suddenly aware of how close he was, of the warmth and firmness of his body behind hers. His hand seemed to still upon her and she realised he was trembling; could it be possible he was as nervous as she was right now?

His index finger replaced where previously his thumb had been and he ran it down her neck, sliding it across her silky soft skin. She arched her neck slightly, closed her eyes at the sensations he was causing. His hand moved of its own accord to her shoulder, drew her sweater aside as he followed her collarbone. He sighed, deep and unnerving, it surprised her as much as that first touch.

She felt his breath on her neck, near her ear, felt him shiver against her. With a deep breath she moved backwards until she was resting against him, her back to his stomach, with his chest pressed against her she could feel just how good his physique was, clearly he was still in good shape.

His hands trailed down her sides, tickling, they rested on her waist and her stomach flipped. She closed her eyes attempting to resist the urge to sway against him; then his hands reached up and cupped her elbows before sliding down the remaining part of her arms and catching her wrists as his fingers disappeared beneath the soapsuds.

She folded her fingers with his, leant her head back against his shoulder and felt his chin slide into place next to her neck. How easy it was for them to fit together, how perfect it seemed. When she opened her eyes the first thing she saw was her wedding ring sparkling from where it rested next to the sink. Her throat tightened but she adamantly brushed it away. Most people found this before they married, most people married for love; Rupert had never been her lover and she never his, it was what it was and she couldn't change that and after all these years she wouldn't want to. But Joseph was different, this wasn't some secretive horrid little affair, it wasn't dirty and disgusting and to be ashamed of. It was everything she wanted, it was something for her alone, Clarisse, not the Queen, not the mother, not the dutiful wife and hostess.

Reluctantly Joseph let go on her hands and began to move away from her.

"Should we retire to the lounge?" He whispered.

She nodded, "I'll just be a second." She replied somewhat unsure of her voice.

She spent a few minutes alone, putting the dishes away and drying her hands. Finally she stopped, leant back on the table and took a few deep calming breaths, the enormity of the situation suddenly hitting her. She'd been a virgin at marriage, she'd never known anybody else's touch and if she was honest with herself she hadn't slept with her husband since the birth of her second child. She was terrified; terrified of disappointing, terrified of how her body would respond… Knitting her fingers together she went through to the lounge.

Joseph was standing in front of the fire, his back to her, leaning on the mantelpiece. A few candles stood on the table creating a dusky light in the room. Silently she stood at the entrance watching him.

He sensed her behind him, gave her a few seconds before turning to face her and smiling despite his nerves. The air suddenly seemed warm, too warm, and he wondered if his body would find a way to override these nerves and perform, right now his stomach was up in his throat.

She unfolded her hands, held them out at her sides. "Well here I am." She said trying to lighten the mood.

"There you are."

"Forgive me, I'm nervous."

"That's alright, I'm terrified." He admitted and they both laughed.

"Oh how ridiculous is this, I'm a middle-aged woman I should be able to handle this."

"We don't have to do… anything, if you're not ready." He moved towards her, hesitantly.

"I want this…" She closed the distance between them. "You know I want this." She placed her palms on his chest.

He held her elbows. "You mean everything to me, I'm more afraid now than I was when we were out there being stalked."

"Oh I don't know, my fear seems to be fading."

He was taller than her, only slightly, but she noticed it more now standing here in front of him without heels. She lifted her face and brushed her lips across his.

It was only a slight touch, but she felt him shudder at the sensation and she suddenly realised the power she could have over him, his breathing was deep and heavy. Resting her hands on his shoulders she kissed his bottom lip.

Joseph couldn't feel his hands, he felt numb, he resisted the urge to devour her mouth afraid he might scare her. But when she pressed her mouth fully against his he moaned and circled her waist with his arms holding her body tight against his.

Her breasts felt full and heavy against his chest; he drew a hand up across her stomach, over her ribcage, circling the bottom of her breast with his finger. This time he was rewarded with a fulfilling sigh from her.

Her hands were on his neck, then drawing circles on his back, her fingers trailed down and pulled his shirt free from his trousers. She touched his skin leaving a burning heat there. This was easier than she anticipated. A throbbing seemed to emanate from deep inside her, a tightening in her stomach but far from being uncomfortable it was the most pleasurable thing she'd ever known.

Joseph slid one hand into her hair, the other arm around her back holding her to him. He teased her mouth with his tongue, held her hips as they swayed against him, they'd settled into a rhythm, how natural it had been.

He broke the kiss, his mouth was sticky, the pulse at his throat felt like it was going to explode. He rested his forehead against hers, struggling to breathe evenly and get his words out coherently.

"I love you, I love you god help me." His hands reached her face, felt her lips slightly swollen from their kissing, brushed across her cheekbones, beneath her beautiful eyes.

She caught his fingers, watched the slightly unsure look flit across his face, the tears fall from his eyes.

"I love you, I do, you're the only man I've ever…" The words caught in her throat, she kissed his forehead. Held his hands and led him to the couch.

She stared at it realising it wouldn't be large enough for the two of them, and did she really want to be cramped up on a couch during their first time.

"Here." He offered collecting blankets and laying them on the rug in front of the fire. She added pillows and sat down.

"Still not quite right," he added smiling at her. "Stay there one second."

He ran up the stairs two at a time, when he returned he carried in his arms the duvet from the bed upstairs. She couldn't help but smile at his almost teenage mix of excitement and anticipation.

He was watching her as she knelt down in front of the fire, she could feel his gaze lingering on her as he stood mere inches away. Biting back her nerves she lifted the sweater from her body and threw it to the couch. A shiver ran across her skin as the cool air hit her closely followed by the glow from the fire.

Wordlessly Joseph followed suit and repeated her movement then finally knelt in front of her, one hand on her arm the other resting on her knee as they kissed.

He felt the need to say something life affirming and memorable but as his mind searched for the words he finally realised there was no need to say anything, they'd covered it all before, time and time again.

After feeling so alone for so very long, after fearing her heart would forever be cold and unused Clarisse was awash with emotions. Right then at that moment there was nothing she wouldn't do for him, nothing she wouldn't promise as unattainable as it might prove to be.

Later neither would be able to recall who removed which items of clothing, who arranged pillows and blankets or at what point the fire turned to cinders. But Joseph would forever remember the moment he felt her thighs, warm and soft, touching his legs. The anticipation and giddy excitement in her breathing as he watched her face.

"Are you sure?" He whispered into her mouth, kissing her again.

A hand gripping his shoulder and her mouth pushing hard against his were his response.

This was it, the beginning of everything, or the end of everything else.

They made love for most of the night and again early in the morning, then slept until past lunch. Clarisse was first to wake, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light in the room, her mouth felt dry and her arms heavy. She looked down, Joseph's head on her chest, he still slept.

Smiling she moved her arm and stretched it, then pulled the blankets up around his body. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep again but her mind refused to rest. Despite the fact she'd only had a few hours sleep she couldn't recall ever feeling so exhilarated. She wrapped her arms around the man sleeping and took in the sight of her pale skin against his bronzed, traced her fingers down his bare arm and for the first time noticed she'd forgotten to put her wedding ring back on.

The thought of Rupert rushed into her mind and the many years of marriage they'd shared, her sons, what would they think if they knew their mother had been… No, no she needed this, too many isolated years. Joseph had shown her that she wasn't incapable of love and passion. But this was a dream, this couldn't continue when they were back at the palace, both of them knew that. They both knew what the consequences would be, they weren't idiots, but at least… at least she had this memory. At least they had it.

She sighed and felt Joseph shift against her, lifting his head and moving to the side of her body.

"Hello." She said slowly sliding her hand down his arm.

"Hello." He replied, his voice somewhat hoarse.

She smiled and touched his face. "Still sleepy?"

"Just waking." He turned onto his side and rested his hand on her waist. "You look… bright."

"And happy." She added snuggling up against him. "So very happy."

"Hungry?"

"Ice-cream, I could eat ice-cream."

"For breakfast?" He laughed.

"It's lunch time."

He glanced up at the clock, "So it is."

"I don't want to move."

"Me neither."

"Let's just stay here for a while longer…" She said closing her eyes.

"Alright." He kissed her forehead, pulled the blankets to cover both their bodies and also closed his eyes feeling a dreamlike state sweep over him.

"I love you." She whispered folding her hand with his.

_Who would have believed that you & me would fall and land together? And who could have foreseen that in you I'd find the place I've longed forever? And ifI move closer then love will take over and lead the way.  
I'd given up hope, losing the faith that love could be mine to treasure. And now nothing's the same, I found myself reborn on the day I met you. And if we move closer, then love will take over and lead the way.  
It's hard to believe you are lying here with me and the truths I used to hold have changed. And if I move closer and let it take over then love will lead the way....._


	10. part 10

Part 10

She had the most beautiful back, so smooth and delicately covered in freckles. The elegant curve between her shoulder blades, the silky line down her spine, if he ran his finger along it she would shiver against him. Gently he placed a kiss at the base of her neck and was greeted with her muffled response.

Clarisse lay on her stomach, face pressed into her pillow, her arms splayed out above her head. Joseph was teasing her, she could feel his mouth on her skin, feel his hands on her hips and then trailing his fingers up to her waist. She shivered in response and stifled a giggle. The fact she was waking up with him both terrified and excited her. They were together, after all this time they were together.

She remained still, kept her eyes closed and enjoyed his attentions. His hand trailed down her thigh, then to her ankle, down her foot. He kissed her sole and she twisted in his hand.

"That tickles."

"Good, anything else I can do for you madam?" He joked holding her foot in his hand and massaging it.

"Actually, that feels rather good." She twisted her head and glanced towards him, knelt at her feet. "Goodness you look..."

He smiled, partly embarrassed, mostly pleased by her admiring glances.

"Happy, I look happy." He bit her toe playfully and she squirmed in his grasp laughing.

"Crazy, you're crazy."

"Mmm."

She wiggled free from his grasp and turned onto her back, no longer worried about having him glance over at her naked body. The qualms were gone, with him she felt truly beautiful.

"It's getting late." She stated.

"It is."

"Ohh dear." She rubbed her neck. "Being lazy and lying here all day has done nothing for my back." She complained.

"Would you like a massage?"

She smiled playfully, resting her foot on his chest. "I would like a massage."

"Alright. Turn over then."

She laughed. "No!" Teasing she sat up and leaned towards him. "That's not exactly what I meant."

"Ah, and what did you mean?"

"You know exactly…" She traced a line across his bottom lip and was leaning in to kiss him when there was a loud thumping noise outside.

Joseph cursed himself for allowing his desires to take over all rational thought. He pulled on his trousers and grabbed his gun.

"Joseph!" Clarisse exclaimed pulling a blanket around her.

"Stay here, don't move."

"But…"

"Stay!" He demanded rushing outside into the snow.

Clarisse stood behind the lounge door listening for any sudden movements. After what seemed an eternity Joseph returned to the room replacing his gun on the table and shaking the snow from his boots.

"What is it?" She asked watching him move over to the telephone.

"The snow is melting." He said solemnly. "Huge chunk just fell from the room, hence the noise." He picked the receiver up and slowly lifted it to his ear then replaced it. "Still dead."

She felt the breath she'd been holding leave her throat in a rush and, deflated, she sank into a chair wrapping the blanket around her.

Joseph sat on the sofa staring at her. That bright smile and those sparkly eyes that had greeted him a few moments ago had quickly disappeared.

"Reality making a break through." She said fiddling with the edging on the blanket.

"It seems so."

"How long do you think we have?"

"Today, tonight, that is if you agree we should sit tight and wait to be found rather than attempt to walk again."

She nodded. "I agree, we wait."

He sighed and leant back rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"We should be careful." She stated.

"I know. You could sleep in the bedroom tonight…"

"No, I want to be with you, even if we're only in the same room." She held her hand out to him and he reached across and took it feeling a weight lift from his shoulders.

"It seems I've waited forever for this and now it's over far too quickly." He tried to smile at her.

She lifted his hand and kissed his fingers. "Still tonight, and then… you must understand."

He cut her off. "I know, I know what must be."

"It doesn't mean I don't care."

"Or that I don't you."

She rose from her seat and quickly slipped down onto his lap. "You'll always have my heart." She whispered.

"And you mine."

* * *

They were found the following morning, a mere four days after the midnight disappearance, it seemed forever had passed. Joseph heard the helicopter pass overhead and looked down into her eyes. Instantly tears threatened and a dull ache settled in her chest.

They had just made love, her legs were still wrapped around him, her hands still gripped his shoulders. He made a mental note, remembering each nuance of information; the scent of her skin, the softness of her mouth, the feel of her body pressed against his. Reluctantly he loosened his hold on her but she held his face with her hands and kissed him full on the mouth.

After a few brief seconds of bliss the kiss ended and they disentangled their bodies. Before she'd even had time to locate her clothes Joseph was dressed and as presentable as ever. He took one last glance at her then went outside to wave the helicopter down. A lock falling into place over his heart.

Clarisse quickly folded the blankets from the floor and laid them on the couch along with the cushions. Gathering the quilt that had provided such a soft backrest for them she retreated upstairs. She quickly showered and dressed in clothes that belonged to somebody else, desperately trying not to dwell on the events of the past few days. If she thought about it all it would hurt too much and right now she needed to find her Queenly demeanour all over again. She washed away Joseph's scent and touch, she wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't fall, this was more than a simple heartache. The realisation hit her that they would never touch again. They were going back to reality, back to normality.

She was hardly aware of the events that followed, it seemed a lifeless blur. She was hurried to the helicopter along with Joseph and people were left behind to deal with the cottage. The owners would be contacted and informed, plans formulated within seconds. They didn't speak to one another, not really, it was far too dangerous… besides, what else could she possiblysay?

Her homecoming was less than grand; she felt no rush of joy at the sight of her beloved Palace. The snow had almost melted there, the weather and the world was changing. She could see Joseph from the corner of her eye but was keenly aware of the other two men in the helicopter. She recognised neither. He avoided her gaze the entire journey but when they landed she alone noticed the faltering in his breathing. She longed to reach for his hands that were solemnly folded in his lap, but somehow she found the strength to hold back.

"Thank you." She said gently.

He only nodded in response.

Rupert greeted her in the grounds, gripped her shoulders and pressed her to him. She found herself melting against him, her head fell to his shoulder and she clung onto him seeking comfort and security in his embrace. It wasn't like her to show such open emotion in public and Rupert had to ease her inside and to their private rooms. He insisted a Doctor look her over immediately but she whole-heartedly refused, she couldn't bear for somebody else to touch her so soon. Instead she convinced her husband all she needed was a long hot bath and bed. He didn't argue, Clarisse wasn't a woman to argue with.

* * *

Joseph was called to the King's office mid-afternoon; report in hand he entered the grand room feeling nothing short of drained – both emotionally and physically.

"Joseph, it's good to see you." Rupert said meeting him halfway between the desk and the door. He took Joe's hand andshook it, gripping his wrist as he did so.

Joseph looked around, for the first time in his memory they were alone. "Your majesty." He said gently.

"Thank you, thank you…" the older man said honestly. "Clarisse hasn't said much only that if it wasn't for your skill and quick thinking, well, I dread to think…"

Joseph could only nod, guilt sweeping over him as he registered the exhausted dishevelled man in front of him. The King was always on form; always top of his game, at that precise moment he just looked like an old lonely man.

"Sit down, things to discuss."

Joseph took the offered seat and placed the folder on the desk. "My report."

"Thank you; what I wanted to say is you will of course be taking some time off."

"Excuse me."

"I mean, as a thank you, anywhere in the world, you choose and I will have it arranged."

"It was my job Sir."

"Clarisse would never forgive me if I didn't repay you my good man."

Joseph almost choked on his breath but caught himself and instead nodded. "I will think it over Sir."

"Good, good, myself and Clarisse will be going away for a while too, she deserves a break, to recuperate, a difficult year with one thing and another." He shook his head as if distracted. "But anyway, what I wanted to say is when you return I want you to assume the role as head of security."

"Excuse me?"

"The job is yours, Richard is retiring, you are the obvious choice. And allow me to say how pleased am I that you are here to take the position, we need somebody competent in this day and age."

"Thank you…" Joseph mumbled.

"There is of course more to discuss on the issue and I believe you're to be interviewed about events but that can wait… you're exhausted, you must rest." He stood and Joseph followed him to the door.

"Again Joseph, I am incredibly grateful for the safe return of my wife." He shook his hand again.

Joseph dipped his head. "How is her majesty Sir, if you don't mind me enquiring."

"Slept for most of the day, I believe she said she would visit the chapel before dinner however. Seems to be holding up, made of stronger stuff…"

"Indeed."

Joseph left without another word heading directly for the chapel, he used the back stairs avoiding cameras or questioning glances.

He slipped inside unnoticed, it was mostly dark, a few candles burnt. He thought he must have missed her and was about to leave when he spotted her knelt on the floor, head bent.

He instantly stepped towards her needing to hold her hand just once and say what he should have said that morning but as he moved he heard her begin to speak.

"Lord, father, please, please give me the strength to get through this…" Her voice faltered and she struggled for a few seconds to regain her composure. "Whatever has passed help me forget, help me move forward…" She stopped again and Joseph distinctly heard her sob.

He stayed to hear no more, the most humane thing he could do now was to step back, to give her the space she needed to carry on in her role. He only hoped God would offer him the same graces he did his beloved Clarisse.


	11. part 11

Part 11

Joseph, though reluctant to leave the staff so soon after returning, decided to take Rupert up on his offer. Though he didn't choose anywhere distant or overly expensive, he couldn't bring himself to accept that. Instead he decided to go to France, alone, and spend his birthday there taking in the sights.

If Clarisse objected she never said, in fact they hardly spoke to each other before he left. Only on matters of business, he didn't trust himself to be alone with her quite yet; of course he did his best to put on a united front to the surrounding world. The fact was whenever he caught her eye the sadness and isolation he found there broke his heart.

He'd left early one morning without a word to anyone, he needed the break… he needed the distance. He driven across the border by nightfall had located the tiny apartment he'd rented through a friend. He went to a local shop and purchased the essentials for his first evening there, he spent it sitting by the balcony listening to the sound of life below. A bottle of wine got him through til 2a.m. then he went to bed.

* * *

Clarisse remembered his mouth, she felt it on her in the night, felt him gently kissing her awake. In her dreams she could feel his hands on her body, his fingers trailing lightly over her skin… she turned over frustrated by the light, by the memory.

She never had been one to lounge about in bed in the morning; she was always up first, even on holiday. These days she could hardly find the energy to raise her spirits enough and face the day. Pierre was away, Philippe was miserable, she was enamoured with her bodyguard… with the head of security, she corrected herself. There were moments she wanted to break down on her knees in front of Rupert and confess it all, pledge to remain by his side as always but to share the guilt, to empty her chest of the constant aching there.

Rupert was ill; he was getting worse each week. She'd hoped it was another winter thing, a passing cold, but the warnings given by the Doctor didn't bode well. She did as she could, she filled in the gaps with Philippe concerning Parliament, she attended all the functions that Philippe couldn't, she was the seemingly matriarchal pillar of strength. In fact she was slowly falling apart.

Each way she turned she couldn't see a way clear and she wondered how she'd done it all these years… just how had she remained so strong and clear-headed in a crisis? How had she found the best in situations with no support, that was wrong, it wasn't that she hadn't had support it was that the support wasn't all encompassing – nobody had ever adored her the way Joseph had.

The bottom line was she was lonely without him, her days were busier than they'd ever been, she spent evenings comforting Rupert and yet she was lonelier now that she'd ever been…She missed him.

* * *

Joseph had spent the last five days getting to know the area, it hadn't taken him long to work out the best restaurant and bar and he'd ate there for the past two evenings. This evening was no different, he arrived at 7:00, he ate in silence in the corner of the room observing his fellow diners. He moved to the bar afterwards for a drink whilst the band played and that's when she approached him.

She was young though he couldn't place her age exactly, her name was Maria, she was funny and vibrant and smiled an awful lot. She held no attachments, she held no memories, her hair was long and thick and hung down her back in heavy curls. She played the piano, she drank beer. That was pretty much all he learnt about her, she didn't seem to want to share her life history and that suited him fine.

Maria was obviously used to this kind of behaviour and she was very skilled at handling the situation. Joe was led to her small apartment within minutes of leaving the bar together and found himself naked and in her bed within ten, he closed his mind to what it could mean and to the last female body he'd touched. She had no place here, this was purely physical, this was emptying his mind of her memory and replacing it with another.

He quickly took control of the situation, twisted himself over and lay the younger lady beneath him. Her ebony hair spread over the bed sheets, her thin figure slipped within his hands and her pale skin shone in the dusty light of the room. She tasted like apples, fresh and crisp. It hadn't been like this with Clarisse, this intense and fierce, he ground his body into hers as if his life depended on it. As if he had something to prove, as much to himself as to anybody else.

He handled the situation as any man might, he did everything right, he closed his eyes and allowed the sweetest of sensations to flow through his body. Then he lay on his back and watched as she changed their positions and took control of the moment, he watched as if he were a third party not at all involved in the act of sex but a casual observer. Because of course that's all it was, sex, and she'd agreed to that, as had he.

Two hours after he had entered the apartment and embarked upon this indiscretion he found this woman was actually holding him. He awoke, dreary and confused, his head clouded with the smells of bodies and the remnants of alcohol. He groaned and tried to turn but she held him, his head was on her stomach and she was rubbing his neck.

"Tell me, this woman you're in love with…" She whispered.

"Sorry!" he said confused, had he said something in his sleep, a stupid call out in a moment of passion. "What makes you think?"

"You did this for a reason, I'm thinking its to block out whoever it is you really want. Let me guess she's married and you can't have her so you fuck me instead."

This time he dragged himself from her arms and sat up on the edge of the bed. "You knew what this was."

"I did and believe me I'm not complaining, just offering an opinion."

"I'd rather you didn't, it's personal… it's complicated."

"It always is." She sighed pulling on her dressing gown. "Would you like some coffee?"

Joseph eyed her suspiciously.

"I'm not here to judge you believe me, it's just coffee, if you wanna talk fine, if not then thanks for a great time."

She was very matter-of-fact and it stung Joseph that a young woman could be so cold about what should be an act of intimacy between a couple. Then it struck him that he was just the same, or had been tonight.

Fastening his trousers and following her into the kitchen area with his shirt screwed up in his hand he watched as she tied her long dark hair up.

"I'm sorry." He said gently.

"No need to apologise, so tell me am I right, she's married?"

He nodded staring at the far wall behind her.

"Milk?"

"Black."

He slipped his shirt on and quickly fastened the buttons.

"Have you loved her for long?"

"Forever it seems." He said honestly taking one of the stools in front of the breakfast bar.

"And does she know?"

"Oh yes." He said too quickly.

She pushed the mug of coffee in front of him. "Need an aspirin."

"No, I'll be alright with a little fresh air, it's been a while since I drunk so much."

"I kinda guessed, does her husband know?"

"I sincerely hope not."

"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, makes no difference to me."

"It's fine, just awkward, I've never told anybody. Apart from her of course."

"Is it returned."

"Yes… I think so," a deep breath then "Yes, yes she does."

"She won't leave her husband for you?"

"Not an option." He simply shook his head. "He's older than her, they're good friends, I mean…" he shrugged. "I'm not sure what I mean. It's gone on for far too long, we've danced around this for far too long. And I never know whether to stay and see it through and keep hoping that somehow… or if it's time for me to bow out gracefully and walk away."

"How do you mean?"

"I could move, I see her almost everyday, it isn't easy, I could disappear."

"How would she feel about that?"

"Honestly, I think I'd probably break her heart if I simply left now. I think it would tear her apart if she knew what I'd done here tonight."

"Guilt for sleeping with another woman when you're in love with a woman who is married… something seems a little out of sync there, some kind of screwed up situation."

"Indeed, but unavoidable."

"And can you _honestly_ tell me here and now that you could live the rest of your life watching from afar and not engage in sexual relations with another more willing partner?"

He glanced at her suspiciously. "I guess… I'd have a damn good try if it meant one day… I certainly never envisioned my life turning out this way that's for sure."

He drained the last of his coffee and looked up and smiled at her. "Thank you, you didn't have to sit and listen to a old man's woes."

"I don't mind, you're am interesting man Joe, this woman… whoever she is, must be crazy!" She jumped down from her stool and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks." He said weakly returning her embrace, it seemed odd to him that now she appeared so young, so innocent, the effects of the alcohol had definitely warn off. All that was left was guilt.

He left her flat, it was raining but he left his jacket off and walked back to his apartment in the freezing night air.

* * *

In another country a rather exhausted Clarisse was yet again woken in the middle of the night and called to her husband's room.

The darkened room was far too warm and smelt of medicine, she almost gagged as she securely tied her dressing gown and went to his bed.

"Leave us alone." Rupert waved the attendants away.

Clarisse sat down next to him and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"You'd be better off in hospital my dear." She said softly.

He caught her hand. "Don't fuss, I want to stay here, I want to die here like my father did and his…"

"Stop it Rupert, you're not dying, not yet." She squeezed his frail hand.

"I wanted you here to say…"

"Rupert don't."

"Listen to me, I know this hasn't always been easy on you, you had dreams…"

"Believe me, you've fulfilled many of those dreams, I couldn't ask for more."

"Clarisse darling…"

"No, stop this, stop these morbid thoughts."

He coughed and she helped him to sit up and handed him some water. "Will you allow me to call the Doctor in?"

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

She nodded smiling and running a hand through his hair. "Yes, I'll be right here."

She stood up and moved to the door to call the Doctor.

"Clarisse."

"Yes."

"No hospitals…"

She sighed yet nodded. "Alright, no hospitals."

She slept by him that night, well for the time she managed to sleep anyhow, for most of the night she was alone in the darkness with her thoughts. Clarisse was beginning to realise that her feelings for Joseph were simply not going to disappear or lessen over time and somehow they had to co-exist together.

If she was going to get through the rest of her life in this role, with these duties, she needed him with her. She needed him to keep his promise…


	12. part 12

Part 12

Joseph slipped on his jacket, checked his earpiece was in place and strode out into the corridor. He had to admit it; it was good to be back, and in charge. His first port of call was Clarisse's office however, with the King out of action and Philippe in Spain on business Clarisse was also taking on new responsibilities.

Cautiously he knocked on the door, he was granted entrance by two maids quickly scuttling away, giggling to themselves as they passed him.

"Something amusing them?" He murmured as he entered the room.

Clarisse was sitting at her desk watching him walk towards her, she smiled. "Good morning Joseph."

"Good morning your majesty." He said formerly then noted the hurt in her eyes. "How are you?"

"Oh you know, coping…"

"I know."

"Joseph…" she turned in her chair, straightened her jacket. "Do you recall a certain promise you made to me not so long ago."

His breath caught in his throat, he nodded. "I do."

"Then I suggest you keep it." She got up from her chair and moved to the other side of the desk. "The palace has been empty without you." She said gently.

He smiled, why did she always dance around issues. "I missed you too Clarisse. And I'm sorry I wasn't here to help while his majesty has been ill. You could have contacted me, I would have returned earlier."

"No, you deserved a break… we both did."

"Are you willing to talk about this now?"

She shifted on her feet a little uncomfortable. "I need you with me, I need your friendship and support although more than that…"

"I know, I'll always be here. I promised didn't I." He lifted her hand and gently kissed it.

"Dear Joseph." She rested her hand on his cheek just for a second then pulled away from him.

"Philippe should return on Friday, until then, well I guess you'll be reporting to me." She smiled sitting down.

"You look tired."

"I am, Rupert doesn't sleep well and I… I know this must be difficult for you but he needs me."

"I know that. I'm here if you need to talk."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"I better get to work, otherwise my new boss will complain."

"Absolutely." She sat back in her chair and watched him leave, suddenly she felt a weight lift from her shoulders, she was relaxed for the first time in days. How did he have the power to do that with a simple look?

* * *

Making his way down to the staff kitchen he couldn't help but smile to himself, he could still feel her touch on his face, still smell her fragrance. And she'd missed him, and she hadn't simply dismissed him out of hand as a mistake, that was what he'd expected, what he'd prepared himself for. No there was love in her eyes, he still had her heart.

Relieved and exuberant he leant over the table filled with breakfast and stole somebody's toast.

"Hey." A hand flipped up and caught his arm but he laughed and went to stand by the fire.

"You look far too happy this morning." Shades commented staring at him. "Just what happened to you in France."

"Meet somebody Joseph?" Alice asked as she sat down at the table.

"Don't speculate you two."

"That means he did." Shades teased.

"Well good for him, I've known him for far too long and he's been single for as long as I recall."

Alice's statement seemed to shock everyone in the room, she was always the old moody woman who barked out orders to everyone else.

"Damn waste." She said hiding a smile as she glanced at the newspaper.

"Sooo…" Shades probed. "Who was she?"

"Nobody."

"A nice Birthday treat hey?" He winked.

"Very funny." Joseph shot him a warning glance.

"Well somebody's put that smile on your face."

Clarisse's face swam into his mind and again he couldn't help but smile and quickly looked down at the tiled floor to hide it.

"Ha! I knew it; go on details…"

"There's nothing to tell."

"Young?"

"Younger." Joe said without thinking.

"You old dog."

"Thanks for that." He said suddenly embarrassed. "Time for some work to be done I think."

And with that he marched out of the room and up the stairs.

* * *

Clarisse climbed onto the bed, she was used to this by now, she tucked her dressing gown to the side and rubbed the cream into her hands. Rupert leant back towards her and she placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Ow, cold!" He complained.

"I know, but it will help."

She continued to rub his back, actually she didn't mind doing this, it seemed to relax him and he refused to have any of the nurses do it. It gave them time alone anyway and she cherished every moment with him now.

"When's Philippe home?"

"Friday, I told you this morning."

"I forget. How are you bearing up?"

"I'm fine, don't worry."

He twisted his head to look at her. "I could help."

"No, no work… now turn around or I can't do this."

He followed her orders and closed his eyes relaxing into her touch.

"I hear Joseph is making changes. He didn't waste any time."

"Wants to update the system, it makes sense especially after everything that happened."

"We don't want a repeat performance of that scenario."

"No." She added softly.

"Good he's back, fine man, did him good the break no doubt."

"I'm sure."

"Heard he had a good time, 'bout time he found a nice young lady, always alone, makes no sense. Good-looking man like that, no surprise he struck lucky…"

She tensed suddenly. "How do you mean?"

"Met some woman in France, or so I hear over the grapevine, the nurses do like to gossip." He laughed. "Don't blame him. Are we finished?"

Clarisse realised her hands had stilled on his shoulders and she was frozen in place. She shook her head to break the spell. "Yes, yes we're finished."

"Thank you my dear, does me a world of good."

"You're welcome."

She climbed from the bed and dried her hands on a towel. "Are you sleeping now?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'm going to take a bath." She was struggling to speak, struggling to find enough breath to carry on.

"Goodnight then." He said but his eyes were already closed, she pulled the blankets over him and kissed his forehead.

"Goodnight my love." Turning the lights out she left his suite and crossed the hall quickly to her own ignoring the guards standing outside. The tears fell as soon as her door closed.

* * *

Joseph awoke early the following morning; his first thought was of Clarisse. He showered and dressed in a matter of minutes, perhaps he could grab some time alone with her before the rest of the staff were up and around. She was always in her office early catching up on something or other.

He found himself whistling as he quickly strode through the back corridors to the security monitoring room.

"Anything to report?" He asked just dipping his head inside the door.

"Nope, pretty standard night."

"Anyone up yet?"

"Erm not really, lot of nurses around, her majesty up early."

"In her office?"

The young man glanced at the monitor. "Er no, think she went out into the grounds."

"Alone?"

"I'm not sure…"

"For gods sake must I do everything, you do realise we had an attempted assassination less than two months ago, come on…" He stormed off leaving the young man shaking in his wake.

As he surveyed the grounds for Clarisse he felt his throat begin to tighten, why was it everybody seemed incompetent? There was going to be a shake up in the palace with him in charge, they better be ready for some tough training months ahead.

He was informed that Clarisse had taken her horse early that morning and gone riding, he saddled one up himself and set off after her. He knew her favourite spots; he would try them until she was safely accounted for.

He found her at the third of the spots listed in his mind, a clearing by the river that was a little too far into the grounds, she hardly ever came here, certainly not in winter. He jumped down from his horse, settled him and made his way towards her. She was holding herself, her arms were folded and her hands gripped her shoulders. Her head was bowed, the frost on the ground crunched as he walked and it struck him that she wasn't even wearing a proper coat, she must be freezing.

Slipping his jacket off he stepped up behind her and gently laid it on her shoulders.

She jumped and turned to face him, her face was tear-stained.

"Clarisse darling what's wrong… is it Rupert?" He reached for her arm but she stepped away.

"How dare you… how dare you even have the gall to talk to me especially about him. You can't do this Joseph, you can't toy with me like this, I'm not some fool…"

"I've never thought you were, will you tell me what's brought this on."

"YOU! Damn it you." She hit his chest in frustration dropping the jacket that hung on her shoulders to the floor. "What was it, some power trip to get me into bed, playing all those games just so you could succeed, well you did, you got the stoic Queen into bed."

"Clarisse." He caught her flailing arms. "I'm confused."

"How could you do it, so soon, so soon after we… I thought it was… I thought it meant more." She gasped struggling to stop her tears. "As if I don't have enough to deal with, as if there isn't enough heartbreak you do this."

"Darling."

"No, no don't say that. My husband is dying, the monarchy is changing and I stupidly fall for you and allow myself to sleep with you and then you throw it back at me." She straightened herself up and took a deep breath. "Rupert told me about your little escapade in France Joseph."

"What?" Confusion hit him squarely in the chest.

"You of all people should know how gossip travels."

"Oh Clarisse." He couldn't find his voice; he had to convince her it was inconsequential. "It wasn't, I mean, nothing, it was nothing."

She turned and slapped his face. "It was something to me!"

He recovered and held her arm as she tried to pass him.

"No, she was nothing, you are everything to me."

"Obviously not. Let me go, I have to get back."

"No, not yet, fire me if you like, let the world know about us and have me shot but we talk about this now. You aren't walking away."

"You have no right anymore."

"I needed to get you out of my mind, I was drunk, I was fucking screwed up, I can never have you – never. And I had to make that decision, to stay and be miserably lonely and survive on scraps of emotion… on seeing you for fifteen minutes a day. Or to walk away."

"You could just walk away, now, after everything?"

"God no that's the point. I can't, but I saw you in the chapel, I heard what you said. This is tearing you apart, I know you and I know your beliefs and your devotion and I am just making it harder, being here…"

"You slept with another woman."

"But I love you."

"That's a damned funny way of showing it."

She shrugged his arm off and moved away from him, down to the water's edge, she folded her arms and for a few minutes they stood in silence. It was Clarisse who finally spoke.

"I didn't expect you to be a celibate for the rest of your life, I can't ask that of you, I just didn't expect it would happen so soon."

"I didn't plan it, it was a mistake, she was…"

"Don't tell me, I can't hear that."

"You know I love you, I always have."

She closed her eyes as he spoke, she knew he was telling her the truth, Joseph never did lie.

"I have told you time and time again, I was beginning to think I'd never find it, never find the one and then it's you and everything is just… cruel, unfair, what can I say, I'll never be more..."

She glanced at him.

"But you are more. How do you think I can go on without you? How do you think that now, after those days we spent together I could simply pretend it never happened. I hate you for this, I hate you for it because you've hurt me."

"I'm sorry…"

"I know." She was facing him now. "The thing is Joseph I've finally let my guard down and let you in, you're in my heart, part of my soul, and if you left now I don't think I could do this… I need you with me. And I know how selfish that is but I need you, I need you…"

Sobbing she fell against his chest, his arms circled her and held her tight against him.

"I need you too."

"I feel like I'm falling apart, all of a sudden I have this split personality and I'm not sure how to deal with it, the only thing I'm sure of is that you can't leave, not now."

He smoothed the hair from her face. "I won't ever leave you, that's what I realised whilst I was away, I could live the rest of my life away from here and have a hundred relationships and see a million things and still I'd be empty because I wouldn't be with you. So if fifteen minutes a day is all I get then I'll take it, because nothing else compares…"

"Joseph." She smiled despite her tears. "I'm afraid, I'm afraid for Rupert and Philippe."

"I know."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way. I never imagined it this way."

He touched her face, that beautiful face. "I don't suppose anybody did." He kissed her forehead. "I am sorry. I would never hurt you intentionally."

She nodded. "I'm sorry I hit you."

"I didn't mind that." He smiled reassuringly.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be asked twice, his mouth captured hers in a sweet gentle kiss. She placed a hand on the nape of his neck and brought his mouth harder against hers.

"I love you." She breathed against him.

"I love you. I always will."

"You're cold." She said rubbing his arms.

"So are you, we should go back."

"I hate this." She rested her head in his chest for a second. "I just need a moment, go back without me."

"No Clarisse, we have to tighten security."

She raised her head and looked into his dark eyes. "Alright." She conceded. "Do I look presentable?"

"Beautiful."

"Biased, is my face red?"

"Only from the cold."

She nodded.

"Here, put this on." He picked his jacket up and she slid into it loving the scent of his cologne on it.

"You know Joseph." She said as he readied her horse. "I won't mind, in the future, if you need somebody else… to go elsewhere for the physical."

"Ah Clarisse." He placed a finger on her lips. "No, never again, if it's not you then I don't care."

"I'm used to it." She shrugged. "I understand."

"I don't. What does it mean if it isn't for love?"

She took a deep breath. "You know there are times, usually late at night, when I wonder if it would have been better if we'd never met. If you'd been born somewhere else, if I had, if we were of a different age group, if you were security in another palace… perhaps it would have been easier. Perhaps if you'd never met me."

"I'd still be looking."

She smiled. "And I'd still be lonely, locked inside myself."

He kissed her again. "You are the most precious thing to me, I would never wish for anything else. If it were easy to go back to being a solitary bachelor then I would, but it wouldn't… the pain would be unbearable."

"I think we should have more than fifteen minutes a day," She said as he helped her onto her horse holding the reigns as she settled. "And tea in the library once a week to discuss security issues."

"A date then your majesty."

He mounted his own horse and together they slowly made their way back to the palace.


	13. part 13

_Sorry it took a little longer to update this - was struggling somewhat with it!!! The room that is referred to in the 2nd half of the chapter is the same 1 used in Chapter 1 of Cold Water. Enjoy._

Part 13

To the surprise of the Doctors and all involved Rupert's health improved. Two weeks after Joseph's indiscretion and Clarisse's heartfelt decision he was up and around again. Of course his heavy workload no longer existed, in fact now it was split three-way. Duties were now shared between Rupert, Philippe and Clarisse, and she for one loved the added responsibility.

The winter months passed into summer and it seemed she was happier than she could ever remember. For a start she had her son home, working closely with him, she would never tell him but she had missed the years he'd spent working or travelling abroad. Her husband was thriving especially with the extra time he had on his hands to relax and pursue his hobbies.

And for Clarisse herself, well she had Joseph. Each Wednesday afternoon they would meet in her private library, sit and discuss anything and everything. Whether it be the improvements she was trying to make to the education system, or the way Philippe was coming on in leaps and bounds or quarrelling over something ridiculous and unimportant. They had fallen into a rhythm together, he was becoming her confident aswell as best friend; she trusted and valued his judgement.

Of course there were boundaries, Joseph never dared allow himself to touch her for more than a few seconds. The jolt of pleasure that went through his chest at the feel of her skin or the scent of her perfume was far too intoxicating to resist. So he decided it was easier if they just didn't get that close, he had no idea where it was all leading or how they would survive twenty odd years of that kind of torture but for the most part he buried those thoughts away. Afterall he had her love and they were together and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardise that.

During the long summer months they ventured out together into the grounds and took walks. Clarisse especially enjoyed walking in the evening and Joseph offered to accompany her. She had commissioned a revamp of the gardens and was currently in discussion with the landscapers about what was possible.

"I hear you're being blessed."

She glanced at him sideways an amused look on her face. "Blessed? Am I?"

"Your own rose."

"Ahh I see," She folded her hands together behind her back and swung them as she walked. "Rather wonderful isn't it."

"It is, do I get a sneak preview?"

"No, you can wait like everybody else." She smiled; it was so easy to chat to him, so easy to have fun with him. "Jealous?"

"I'm not sure a rose would suit me."

"Perhaps, what would you prefer?"

"I don't know, I don't pretend to have the market covered on flowers."

"Hmm…" she stopped walking at him and looked him over. "I'll think about it and get back to you."

He laughed amused at her serious expression. "Maybe I'm not a flower at all, I might just be a huge diamond."

"Oh indeed." She caught his arm as she giggled then let go instantaneously. "Sorry."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be. Shall we return, it's getting late."

"Yes." She said gently turning back toward the palace. "Thank you for walking with me Joseph, I do enjoy our conversations."

"As do I, you know that." He stepped to the side a little, putting a discreet amount of distance between them. He was keenly aware of the sheer amount of eyes that could be on them now, afterall it was he himself who had installed the new cameras and guards around the palace.

He had worked tirelessly since he'd returned from France, the latest technology was put in place, training was increased and now everything, and everyone, worked efficiently. His judgement was sound and both the King and Prince Philippe accepted and valued his point of view on matters of security.

* * *

It would be several months before Clarisse's world would change, in fact they made it through to the following January before Rupert was taken ill again. Once more he was confined to his bed only this time there was little hope he would ever make it out again. For two weeks she pushed herself to carry on her duties, undertake half of Rupert's, spend time with him everyday and continue as the smiling, well-presented royal.

The air in the palace was one of quiet sadness, melancholy, hardly anybody ventured near the King's suite and the Queen was avoided at all costs. Her moods were unreadable; she would be pleasant one minute and bite your head of the next. Joseph kept his distance, he understood the stresses placed upon her, and despite everything they'd shared the bottom line was her husband was dying. He had no right to demand her attention.

For four days straight he didn't even speak with her, his duties mainly involved providing protection for Prince Philippe and escorting him to his various engagements. His sleeping patterns were indistinguishable, he grabbed fifteen minutes whenever he could and would eat on the job. He finally managed to arrange a free evening for himself, well free in the fact he got two hours to himself in the evening and had Shades oversee the nightshift.

In his room he settled back into the hot bath and closed his eyes, his back was aching, his shoulders felt like he'd been standing up permanently for three weeks straight. If he had the energy he would have poured himself a drink and perhaps put a little music on, but as it was his body collapsed into the hot soapy water and that was that.

Fifteen minutes later his pager buzzed. Cursing he padded across the bathroom to where he'd left his jacket in the bedroom. Rubbing his face with a towel he read the message. Clarisse.

Less than five minutes later he was outside her suite, he knocked and was greeted by Alice just leaving. She waved him inside and scuttled off down the corridor.

He moved through to her personal lounge, she was standing by the fire waiting for him.

"Good evening." He smiled gently.

"Hello." She said meeting his gaze, she folded her hands and studied his face.

"Hello." He moved closer and rested his hands on the back of the couch. "You look exhausted."

"So do you."

"How is he?"

"Bearing up. Sleeping at the moment."

"And you?"

"Oh you know, bearing up…"

"Clarisse."

"I'm fine, I just," she shrugged. "I needed to see you. Needed to talk about something other than, well, you know."

"I do."

She smoothed her skirt and sat down in one of the chairs. "Please sit with me." He moved around the couch and took a seat. "Tell me, what were you doing this evening?"

He laughed. "Actually I was just taking a bath."

"You were… oh I'm sorry, I interrupted you, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I'd rather be here."

She smiled for the first time since he'd entered the room. "You do realise that a year has passed since… our time in the cottage."

"It hadn't escaped my memory. I didn't want to bother you."

"Bother me?"

"You have enough on your plate at the moment."

"Considerate as always Joseph." She leant back in the chair and closed her eyes running a hand through her hair. "Oh Joseph I'm so tired, I don't think," she swallowed. "I really don't know how much longer Rupert has. It hurts, I can't imagine being here without him."

She said the words knowing he would understand, there couldn't be jealousy now, he had her heart, there was no animosity left.

"Pierre is coming home, but you would already know that." She opened her eyes and looked across to him.

"Yes, I did."

"How are the staff?"

"Concerned. On edge I suppose."

"They tell me the country is already mourning," she took a deep breath. "Perhaps I am too, he isn't the man I knew… there's so little of him left." She gulped back a sob. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologise to me, you know that, cry if you need to."

"No," she sat up straight. "Not now. There will be time."

He moved on the couch wanting to hold her, but it wouldn't be appropriate, she had to make the first move.

"I'm not sure I know what to say to Philippe anymore, the poor boy seems to carrying the weight of the world at the moment. I fear I'm not offering as much support as I can."

"You're partly running the country Clarisse."

"I know, I know… I always feel the need to do more."

"And I know that."

His voice was gentle, soothing, she held her hand out to him and he took it willingly. Enfolding her fingers with his, smoothing her skin, sending a tingling sensation up her arm.

"Thank you for giving up your free evening for me." She leant her head towards him. "For being here."

"I promised, I would never break that."

She nodded, suddenly it seemed the couch was too far away and she was about to rise from her chair and go sit with him when the outer door to her suite opened. She quickly let go of his hand and sat back in her chair.

"Mother…" Philippe hastily strode into the room then noticing Joseph stopped abruptly.

"Philippe dear, is anything wrong?"

"No, I just needed to talk with you."

"Ah," she sat forward. "Joseph was just discussing staff morale with me."

"I see. Well thank you Joseph."

"You're welcome." He glanced up at his future monarch, a picture of sadness and utter exhaustion, then back to Clarisse who was doing her best to avert her gaze.

"Well…" He said rising from the couch. "I'll retire for the evening I think."

"Thank you for your time Joseph." She smiled gently. "It's appreciated."

He glanced over to her, careful not to allow his eyes to linger on her face. "You're welcome… your majesty." He turned to Philippe. "Sir."

"Goodnight Joseph."

He left quickly, shaking off the awkward feeling as he made his way back to his room.

* * *

Clarisse watched the rain slide down the window in endless streams, it seemed apt, the sun would have somehow been inappropriate. Her hands were folded in her lap, she hardly moved, she daren't move, people were watching her from every angle. Today she had to be strong, today she had to play her role better that perhaps she ever had in the past. Dignified and strong. The pillar of strength for the country.

Faces lined the route from the palace to the church but she didn't look at them, she looked past them, an endless blur. She could hear crying, people sobbing as she passed, it seemed somewhat strange to have such an outpouring, so many people sharing in her grief. Philippe sat across from her, Pierre next to her, leaning against her arm, his weight was somehow comforting. She was relying on the two of them to carry her through the day.

Of course she'd always known this day would come, Rupert was much older than she, it was something they'd discussed before marriage. It was almost a certainity that she'd outlive him, but right now that thought offered little comfort. She took a deep breath as they approached the church. The original plan was for the boys to walk behind the coffin, but of course with the weather being so bad in February that idea had been abandoned along with the procession. Yet there the people stood, like marble statues in the cold, the rain pouring off of them, unaffected by the weather their presence and the outpouring of love she felt radiating from them was just enough to carry her through.

"Mother. We're here." Pierre whispered breaking into her reverie.

She looked up to his face, rested her hand on his cheek and then reached over and squeezed Philippe's hand. She couldn't think of anything to say, she hoped this would be enough reassurance for them.

The door opened and Philippe stepped out first, accepting flowers from the crowds standing round about. Taking a deep breath Clarisse held her hand out and shuffled along the seat.

Joseph caught her fingers, slid his gloved hand into hers and she looked up at him, her eyes shone with unshed tears. He hoped she would allow them to fall, now was the time to grieve, now she had to let go. She was glad of his warmth as she stepped up and came into contact with his chest, she squeezed his hand and he stared into her face for a second. Then he guided her along the path until Pierre came and took her arm. Only then did he step back and walk behind the pair. Shades would follow with Philippe. Right then his only concern was providing support to her.

Her dress was too long, Joseph thought as he followed down the path. It was dragging in the rain and the black material was slowly soaking up the moisture. She usually lifted the long skirts a little when she walked, today she let it drag in the dirt. They'd prepared umbrellas but that morning when she'd witnessed the crowds getting drenched she'd refused them, they would take the rain as anybody else did. Besides, it occurred to him, nobody could tell the rain from tears as they slid down her face. She wore a long black coat over her dress, simple pearls, in fact the only thing that stood out on her was a ruby heart broach attached to the coat… Rupert had given that to her many, many years ago.

He stopped at the back of the church, watched the family take their seats. Rupert's sister, his cousins, the French prime minister and various diplomats from around Europe. When they were all in place and Shades positioned himself Joseph wandered down the sides, hidden and out of view he could watch the service. Clarisse sat between her sons, holding their hands, she hardly ever showed weakness, not in public, and it seemed she wasn't going to break that mould now. Pierre was openly crying, he shook next to his mother and she comforted him the best she could. He would speak later, they both would, words for their father.

Funny, Joseph hardly ever saw the man as being a father. But of course he was, and they obviously loved him. Whatever their roles, whatever their money and luxurious their grief was the same as any family. Clarisse glanced over to where he stood and he wondered if she could see him, but no, she couldn't, not where he had positioned himself. He looked down over the rows of relatives and gathered congregation. For the first time it struck him, Clarisse was part of all this, all these important people, and who was he to them? Nothing. Nothing at all. And yet what they felt for each other, how could anybody say that wasn't real, that it didn't matter, that it was nothing. Had itbeen but a year since he'd last touched her, since they'd shared those few days of bliss. What had happened to that woman now, what had happened to the both of them? There was no future to this, he'd been fooling himself to think there could be. She would always be part of this, and he never would.

* * *

Late in the afternoon Clarisse watched the guests leave from her vantage point. The old room at the top of the palace, the one she used to come and hide in. Well here she was again, her arms folded, her gloves removed, she toyed with the wedding ring shining on her finger. It had certainly been a long day, and still the rain came. Physically she was exhausted and yet she knew she wouldn't sleep tonight, just as she hadn't really slept for the past two weeks.

She'd escaped just over an hour ago, surely they could forgive her this once. Both Pierre and Philippe were there to carry the family name, she'd run out of things to say and she was tired of the words "I'm sorry." As sincere as the condolences were, there was only so much she could take.

She heard the door squeak behind her and couldn't help the slight smile coming to her face. She rubbed her arms, it was chilly in the room. For a moment or two she remained in silence staring out of the window at the grey dense sky.

"I was wondering if you'd come and find me…" she sighed. "I realised I probably should have informed you of my disappearing act, but somehow… well I knew you'd find me."

She turned.

"Philippe." She said suddenly. "My dear, I'm sorry." She gathered her wits quickly. "Is everything, well, do you need me?"

"The majority of the guests have gone mother, it's fine, relax." He loosened his tie and joined her by the window. "I told Pierre to pour himself a Brandy and go take a bath."

"Thank you, he never was good with bad weather, catches a chill easily, like his father in that respect."

"I know."

She nodded and turned her head back to the view.

"What did you mean, you thought I'd find you?"

"Oh nothing…" She whispered. "Nothing, I was just babbling on, I'm tired sweetheart, I need to sleep."

"I know, we all do."

"Perhaps I should take your advice and take a nice hot bath too."

"Yes, but can I…" he coughed and cleared his throat, pressing on unsteadily. "Mother, I think I'm old enough now to discuss with you the relationship you and father had."

She raised an eyebrow questioningly but allowed him to continue.

"I will be King soon and I know people will expect me to marry."

"Only when you're ready dear, I wouldn't push…"

"I know, but I also know the demands placed upon me, the expectations, just as they were placed on you. You didn't marry father for love I know that."

"No, but I… I grew to love him, certainly not in the fashion that most couples know, but I loved him dearly, as a friend. He gave me many happy years, and you and Pierre of course." She caught his hand and squeezed it.

"I saw it mother."

"Saw what?"

"When you got out of the car today, I saw the way he looked at you, the way you looked at him."

She shook her head. "I'm confused."

"Joseph mother, I saw the way you looked at him today."

She dropped his hand abruptly. "I don't know what you're implying Philippe but I didn't look at him in any special way. I'm grieving for your father."

"I don't doubt that, you're grieving for the loss of a friend and companion, but it doesn't stop what I saw, the look that passed between you. He held your hand too long."

"Joseph has been on the staff for a very long time Philippe, and yes we are friends, he was offering his support… I'm thankful for that."

"You're friends?" He said gently.

"Of course we are, he saved my life, we spent a week locked up in a safe house with the threat of being murdered hanging over heads, of course you bond in a situation like that, of course you do, but there's nothing more." She let go of his hand, she was running out of excuses and she certainly didn't relish being interrogated at a time like this. "I think I'll go to my rooms, I really need to rest."

He nodded. "Okay, I'm sorry if I've upset you."

"You haven't. Forget it." She walked towards the door and gripped the handle. "Philippe?"

"Yes."

"How did you know I was up here?"

"I asked Joseph…"


	14. part 14

_Disclaimer: Don't own PD, the characters blah blah blah, only the scenarios._

_I'm sorry Clarisse isn't very nice in this chapter... i hope you can understand why. x Rhonda_

Part 14

"He's my son!!!" The words screamed from her throat leaving a soreness as if they were as solid as metal. She cast her eyes to the floor, squeezed tighter on her folded hands. "He's my son." She said more gently this time.

"I realise that Clarisse." Joseph responded with a dignified resolve.

Finally she brought herself to look at him, standing across the room, next to her desk like a naughty schoolboy.

"What do you want me to do?" She said hoarsely.

"I honestly don't have an answer to that."

"Ohh…" Rubbing her forehead she went to sit on the couch. "My husband died a week ago, my son thinks I'm having an affair with you… How do you expect me to react, to act, I have to put a stop to this."

"It's hardly an affair." His voice seemed cold, emotionless.

"As good as." She replied.

"Does it never occur to you that I'm involved in this too, that my feelings are being crushed… again."

"Of course it does, what do you take me for? God Joseph after everything that's happened, all we've been through together, these years forcing each other to keep a distance and now we finally find someway of being together, a balance, and I have to let it go, believe me this hasn't been as easy decision."

"Then why make it, give it time, he's a sensible man he must understand."

"He does understand, that's not the point." She sighed. "He does understand, he told me as much, the point is I can't do it. I can't do that to my son, to both of my sons."

"But it's fine to cut me out of your life, to take away the one day a week I get to have time alone with you. As small as that may seem it does mean so much…"

"I know! I know that, it's not easy for me either. But what choice do I have?" She was shouting again, Joseph wasn't used to witnessing her anger. "What choice do I have, to go on and allow my sons to think I'm some kind of whore?"

Joseph watched her silently. The way her head leaned to one side, her shoulders slumped, her body tired – all that poise and dignity vanished. He couldn't form a response to that statement, and it was a while before she spoke again.

"Don't you see, the guilt over deceiving Rupert was bad enough – how can I deceive my sons?"

"So what happens now?" His voice was low, resigned to her decision.

"I wish I knew, I suppose we go back to how things were."

"Friends?"

"At a distance…"

"Avoiding each other." He snapped.

She nodded and heard his sharp intake of breath, the way his stance changed.

"You can't think I want this Joseph, not in my heart. But I can't lie to them. Philippe knew just from the way we looked at each other."

"So I'm not even to look at you!"

"Joseph please, don't make this so difficult."

"How the hell am I supposed to make it easy Clarisse – tell me."

She looked up at him, catching his steady gaze, her eyes felt heavy with tears yet she refused to cry.

"I can't do this alone. I need your support to get through…"

He too a deep breath, how could he refuse, how could he break that trust?

"As always you have it."

She smiled slowly, sadly. "Thank you." Her eyes cast down again and she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Feeling brave Joseph stepped forward and knelt in front of her. He quickly clasped her hands in his and pressed his lips against hers. Initially she stiffened in the embrace, it had been over a year since they'd last kissed, but then she saw it for what it was. One last kiss, a final touch of affection. She kissed him back, their hands still joined on her knee. Then abruptly he let go, stood up and left the room.

She didn't open her eyes; exhausted, physically and emotionally drained she leant back on the couch allowing her shoes to slip off. In the end it would be better if Joseph left, for both of them, she had no right to be so selfish to keep him around dangling on a string waiting for her. He deserved more than that. Plus she wasn't sure she had the strength to go on seeing him every day and have no more contact than the professional relationship allowed, they'd tried that before and it didn't work. It resulted in her being miserable and even Rupert noticed the change in her moods.

The truth was she needed his companionship; perhaps if she wasn't around him she could overcome that need. Perhaps if he wasn't around her he might find somebody else, and have the family he so desperately wanted, it wasn't too late for that. Yet she'd attempted to push him away before and it hadn't worked, he'd simply remained steadfast in his duties and committed to his job. No, she had to be harsher this time, down right icy cold, and force him out, force him to hate her, make him hate her. So he couldn't bear to even be in the same building as her…

* * *

****

**_2 years later_**

Joseph glanced out of the window and wished he hadn't, the landing strip loomed before him in a blur. He hated to fly, he always had; now there was no denying he was a brave man but even the bravest man must have his weaknesses, his was flying. That's why usually he avoided the window seats, another wave of nausea washed over him as the plane descended and he wondered just how he'd been convinced to sit here.

"Feeling okay Joseph?" Pierre said gently, he sounded strangely like Clarisse, his voice full of concern.

"In about five minutes I'll be absolutely perfect." He said through clenched teeth.

He heard Pierre laugh, he enjoyed the young man's company, in fact he enjoyed both the Princes' company. Pierre was very much his mother's son; he had her fair colouring, her kindness, her gentleness. Philippe looked like his father, especially as he aged the similarities were uncanny. Yet he wasn't as shrewd as his father, he didn't possess that grit, Joseph supposed that was Clarisse's doing. And of course the time he spent in America calmed him, settled him, gave him a centre Joe supposed. He was finally confronted with 'real life' out there and it changed him.

His head jerked back and he realised they had landed, thank god. He had just spent two weeks in Rome with both Pierre and Philippe; it had been part of trade negotiations for the future king and for Pierre a chance to spend valuable time in the Holy City. Joseph had split his time between the pair, two days with Philippe, then two with Pierre and he actually found he enjoyed every minute.

Unlike King Rupert Philippe was very approachable and levelheaded, and recently he'd taken to discussing issues with Joseph in the car on the way back to the consulate. The young Prince had realised early on that Joe was no ordinary security guard, he was an educated man, he was witty and always aware of events unfolding around him. Europe was constantly changing and Joe made sure he was affront of these issues. He spoke several languages and Philippe realised how valuable he was, he was glad he'd remained with the family for so long.

Though where his relationship with his mother went he wasn't sure, at one point, for one single day, he'd believed there was something deep between them. Though he'd never witnessed anything again, in fact it seemed since his father's death his mother had closed herself off. As if she too was waiting for death to arrive, waiting for her son to become King and her role to diminish and finally disappear. That bright sparkling woman that was the centre of every occasion had all but disappeared, it saddened him, it hurt him, yet he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it. Getting his mother to admit to any emotions was immensely difficult, she'd been brought up a different way, she didn't deal with feelings openly.

His father had been dead over two years now, yet she still seemed to be grieving. He'd heard of some people never getting over the death of their partner, but it surprised him, there had never been a deep bonding love between his parents. It was a marriage of convenience, there love had been commitment and friendship and something he wasn't entirely sure he understood, he never imagined it would affect Clarisse in such a way.

"We're home old man." Philippe looked up to see his brother resting a hand on his shoulder.

Philippe smiled. "And it's raining."

"As always, come, let's go meet mother."

xxxxx

Joseph took the passenger seat of the car for the journey back to the palace and left the two brothers alone in the back of the car. He admired his newly tanned skin in the mirror, the weather had been glorious in Rome and he'd even managed to grab a few hours alone. He snuck off and visited the Trevi Fountain, threw coins in with the other tourists and wished, though for what he wasn't entirely sure. It wasn't as if his life was miserable at the moment, in fact since Philippe had taken over as the key figure and Joseph had spent the majority of his time travelling with the young man and enjoying his company he'd been fairly happy.

The only downside of course was the lack of contact with Clarisse, or perhaps that was a blessing. She had changed, as a consequence of losing Rupert or her relationship with Joe himself he wasn't sure. Though he often doubted it was the latter. His love for her had diminished in the slightest and he had no wish to be parted from her entirely, somehow he still hoped that she would see sense. That in time she would recall what it was they shared and come back to him. So then perhaps that was his wish.

He had visited the Colleseum, walked solitary among the crowds of visitors. The heat was getting unbearable mid-afternoon, he stood and pictured the noise, the heat, the volume as men fought, as crowds cheered, hungry for blood, hungry for death. He located a small restaurant, sat outside and ate pasta and drank red wine, it was a meal he had many times before yet somehow it tasted different here… magical almost.

He created a scenario in his mind, a picture of bringing Clarisse here and holding her hand across the table. Of watching her face in the candlelight, her shoulders bare with the warmth of the evening yet a breeze gently lifting her hair. He imagined it so well he thought he could actually see her there, but as always it was just a dream. He was alone. Wasn't that always the way. Part of him wondered how long it would be that way, and he found he was angry with her, almost hating her for doing this to him. Because try as he might he couldn't truly imagine leaving her behind, after everything that had happened, he couldn't see himself existing outside of her world.

Another woman… another love perhaps? A life away from the palace, away from Genovia. He could live here, he could live in Italy and settle down and eat good food and drink fine wine. Yes he probably could. But it wouldn't be real. He'd tried it before, other women, he couldn't erase her, she was part of his soul and no matter where he went or what he did she was with him. And that was both a blessing and a curse, for he was still alone.

"Sir… erm Sir we're almost back."

Joseph shook himself from his reverie, glancing up at the familiar gates to the palace. The colours of the guards awaiting their arrival, he wondered if Clarisse would be waiting for them, eager to see her sons. He wondered if she would smile, she hardly ever smiled these days and he missed it. How bloody ridiculous, to find you missed a smile.

The car came to a halt and on automatic he released his seatbelt and quickly got out, when he turned to open the back door he found the guard had already done it and Pierre was stepping out and thanking him.

He watched them both climb the steps welcomed by Charlotte who had recently taken over as the Queen's assistant. She was young but proving to be highly competent, plus Clarisse had warmed to her, so important in a position like that. He followed at a discreet distance, took in the familiar scent of the light summer rain falling on the grounds. It was refreshing.

He crossed the hall still a few steps behind and heard Clarisse's familiar footsteps on the polished floor.

"Oh, so good to have you both home." Her voice was almost joyful as she greeted her sons, she went to hug Philippe then seemed to stop herself and instead allowed first him then Pierre to kiss her cheek.

She wore black, she looked pale. Joseph noted absently. He looked away, over their heads to the ceiling. He didn't listen to the conversation that passed between them, he was aware of Shades coming to stand next to him. They'd both been travelling for hours, up since dawn organising and planning and after being almost permanently on duty for the past fifteen days they were both in need of a long hot bath and a relaxing evening of peacefulness. Though Joseph was sure Shades wouldn't get such a peaceful night, he was convinced the young security guard, his protégée, was seeing one of the maids…

"Joseph… it's good to have you back." Clarisse said, no trace of emotion.

"Good to be back ma'am." He replied with the same lack of affection. How had it come to this?

She nodded curtly, then turned away with Pierre taking her arm and walking with her. Joseph relaxed, his escape was almost in sight, he could almost feel the silky water enveloping his body. He looked towards the exit and caught Philippe's eye, he was staring at him, a sadness to his gaze.

Joseph was about to say something, ask him if he needed him for anything else that evening. But he stopped himself, he recognised the look for what it was… pity perhaps, regret, helplessness.

Philippe smiled at him. "Thank you Joseph, you've proven invaluable during this visit, I appreciate it… I appreciate all you do."

"Thank you sir, you are most welcome."

Philippe seemed to wait a second, registering the older man before turning on his heel and walking away.

Joseph saw his chance and escaped to his room, suddenly in need of a very large brandy.

* * *

The following Sunday Joseph had slept in late, something he didn't usually indulge in seeing it as both a waste of his free day and he missed the morning, the best part of the day! He took one of the horses out early, raced across the expansive grounds, through the forest, took in the scent of the early morning dew. The sight of the country just waking, bright and alive, yet steady and dreamlike as Sundays often were. He had no idea how long he'd been gone but his stomach warned him it was time to return and have something to eat.

His return was slower, he took a different route. For part of the time he remained on the main road, nobody passed him, then he returned to the dense forest and intended to pass by the lake before his final return to the stables.

He alighted and let the horse rest, intending to take a few minutes to himself by the water. It was beautiful here, silent and private, one of the perks of working in such a place.

"Good morning."

He knew the voice, recognised it from the breath took before any words were spoken. It came from behind him, he hadn't noticed her before, he wondered if she'd hidden away on purpose.

Slowly he turned, fully prepared with his usual work like demeanour in place.

"Good morning your majesty."

She came forward, the sunlight catching in her hair.

"You're up early Joseph."

"As are you."

"Pierre left for France early, I wanted to see him off."

"Of course."

He turned back to the lake, staring at it hoping she would allow him his few moments of privacy and silence. Yet he sensed her getting closer behind him, but when he dared to look over his shoulder at her she was still standing exactly where she had been before. Her hands folded in front of her in a highly formal manner for a warm Sunday morning.

"I was hoping I'd see you, I wanted to talk with you." She said abruptly.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I, well I was going to ask you to come to my office but it seems silly to put it off seeing as you're here now."

He stared at her blankly then found his voice. "Something important ma'am?"

"Yes… I've noticed how close you and Philippe are getting." Her voice was cold.

"Yes." He breathed waiting for her to continue.

"I want it to stop."

Had she really just said that? Had she really just treated him so lowly?

"I don't like it Joseph, I want it to stop, I want you to keep your distance."

He shook his head. "I really don't understand you… I would have thought a good working relationship, would be beneficial to the running of this country."

"Perhaps, but he seems to be relying on you a little too much."

"And why is that so bad Clarisse?" He was fuming; his anger was taking over and his respect and love for her quickly fading. "Why does it pain you so much that I should have a good relationship with your sons?"

"Because it isn't right… you know why." She added gently

"Because of who I am, I assume, because I am just a worker… though I seemed to fit the bill for you at one point."

"Don't." She turned away, marching towards the entrance to the clearing.

He raced after her and grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to turn around and face him.

"How dare you!" She shouted, her eyes were lifeless, so cold and distant.

"No, how dare you! I don't care what your personal thoughts or feelings towards me are, you have no right to interfere in my relationship – my friendship with Philippe. He's a good man, I enjoy spending time with him, unlike you he appears to respect me."

"Respect… what respect do you want?"

He shook his head. "Obviously one you don't think I deserve, a lowly security guard. No airs and graces for me, no fancy jewels and bowing as I enter a room."

"Stop it."

"Why? Isn't your intention to hurt me Clarisse, hasn't that been your only intention since the funeral. To hurt me, to cut me out completely, you failed. I'm still here."

"What if I told you I only slept with you as an experiment… because I never had anybody else, I wanted to know what it felt like."

"I'd say you were lying. You enjoyed it too much."

Uncharacteristically she raged at him, hitting his face, grappling with his shirt as if she wanted to tear him limb from limb.

"I hate you!"

He held her wrists in his. "No you don't, I know you Clarisse. It's been what, almost four years since we slept together. I still see your face, I can still feel your body against mine, you wanted that as much as I did."

She relented against him and he loosened his grasp but still held her.

"I remember how you were, your smile was genuine, and you were the happiest I've ever known you, the most whole I've ever known you. And I've seen you through some things Clarisse."

"Let go of me, you have no right."

"I think I have every right, you're trying to make my life hell."

"Why won't you leave?" She whispered. "It would be easier."

"For you, not for me."

"I can't do this."

"Then stop fighting me."

"I can't…" She snatched her hands back rubbing her wrists. "I can't."

"I'm not sure what's happening to you, I'm not sure I know you anymore."

"Perhaps you never knew _me_ in the first place."

"Perhaps I didn't… but then all that we shared would be a lie and I really don't think it is. I can't leave you."

"I can't be with you."

"You won't even try. You take a step towards me then back away, two years in this isolation Clarisse, two god damn years suffering your wrath, it stops now, you can't fault my work."

"No." She admitted.

"Then let me get on with it, you don't want me fine, I can deal with it, I'm not that shallow. But don't keep rubbing salt in the wound."

"I said I'd hurt you in the end, do you remember, so many years ago, I told you…"

"You did, I never thought you would hurt me this way." He began to walk away from her, touching his face and feeling the blood there.

"Joseph…" Her voice was soft, aching.

He turned to face her, hopeful.

"You won't speak of this to anyone."

"Who the hell would I tell? Besides, nobody would ever believe you would act this way."

"Why not?"

"Because the Queen never shows emotion… of any kind, she didn't even cry when her husband died."

He knew the words were harsh but right then he simply didn't care. He took hold of the horse and walked away, leaving her alone by the lake.

* * *

"And so it is, just like you said it would be  
Life goes easy on me, most of the time.  
And so it is, the shorter story  
No love no glory  
No hero in her sky…  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you… 

And so it is just like you said it should be  
We'll both forget the breeze, most of the time  
And so it is the colder water  
The blower's daughter  
The pupil in denial  
I can't take my eyes off of you  
I can't take my eyes off of you…

_Did I say that I love you?  
Did I say that I want to leave it all behind. _

Now I can't take my mind off of you_  
_I can't take my mind off of you  
I can't take my mind off of you…"


	15. part 15

Oh goodness me, 1:10 in the morning and just finished this chapter! I am now very depressed, and my back hurts -) It seems odd to tell you to enjoy it cos lets face it, it's a bit of a "dark" chapter, but hey reviews are MOST welcome.

xx Rhonda

Part 15 – the long night

16:30

Joseph leant against the windowpane, palms flat on the glass; the rain thudded down outside pooling in the grass. It had rained all day and yet still the sky was heavy, grey and almost moody. He turned from the dismal sight and sat at his desk, he had his own office now, things had changed over the years.

He picked up his phone and dialled a number drumming his fingers on the polished wooden surface. No answer, no signal, a dead line as he expected. Still it was only early, it was still light out… he shrugged off the feeling of unease and poured himself a coffee.

Pierre was in Australia, heading for the outback the last time he'd spoken with him almost two weeks ago. Philippe was just over the border in France and should be home this evening, Shades and two other security guards were with him. Joseph had accompanied Clarisse to a meeting in Germany, it had turned out to be a pretty pointless escapade and he wished he'd arranged the timetable better giving Shades duties with the Queen and he going with Philippe. Still couldn't be changed now.

Three years had passed since their heated exchange by the lake and neither had mentioned it since. If anything Joseph had grown in confidence, he did his job with ease, he communicated freely and easily with both his staff and any visiting dignitaries. Clarisse had played her part and although, admittedly, she still kept her distance from him the anger had dissipated. For the most part she was polite and occasionally she would even talk to him on a one to one basis.

His love for her too had changed, it was no longer that passionate overwhelming wave that swept over him and knocked him from his feet. Now he wanted nothing more than to protect her, to watch over her, to silently and gently provide a strength in the background for her. To be there if ever she fell, if she ever needed anything. The years spent hiding his love, denying the lust, had stemmed the flow somewhat it was … calmer, still as strong, if anything more so, but calmer, more controlled. He had grown so used to it; it was as natural as breathing.

He rose from his seat, took another look at the rain and drained his coffee cup before heading to the kitchens in search of dinner.

* * *

19:30 p.m.

Weakened and shaking Joseph had to grip the door handle to hold himself up. He felt frozen to the spot; his body was physically cold, goose pimples forming on his flesh, yet he was sweating, profusely. He dabbed at his forehead with the sleeve of hisjacket then finally opened the door leading to Clarisse's suite.

He heard her voice immediately, ranting, she was pacing the room babbling on to Charlotte. Demanding answers, knitting her fingers together, she seemed furious; inside he knew she would beterrified.

"Joseph!" She demanded noticing him by the door. "Joseph, what the hell has happened, nobody will tell me anything. Where's Philippe?"

"Your majesty…" He said gently. What was he supposed to say? How did you do this? How did you explain it? The rain… the helicopter… her son.

He took a step forward, folding his hands in front of him. The room seemed to shrink, closing in on him, all eyes watching and waiting for him to do it. "Clarisse."

She watched him, her eyes glazed over as she took in his expression. "Oh god…"

"Clarisse… I…"

"Get out," she whispered. "Get out all of you!" She shouted, the maids in the room visibly shook at her words.

Charlotte's tear filled eyes looked to Joseph; he nodded and waited as they filed from the room, never taking his eyes from her. She turned to the window; she was trembling, trying to hold herself together, not to dissolve in front of anybody.

He stepped forward, deciding in that instant that he wouldn't leave her no matter what she said. Stepping to the side of the couch and summoning whatever strength he had he rested his hand on her shoulder. She shook him off but he tried again.

"No…" She grimaced.

He gripped her shoulder willing her to turn to him.

"No!" She screeched pushing him away but he caught her arm and held her shaking body to him.

"No… no, no, no…" She fell to her knees sobbing; deep shuddering sobs that racked her body and spilled form her mouth without thought or structure.

He fell with her, holding her close to his chest, closing his eyes and allowing his own silent tears to fall.

* * *

20:15

"Here drink this." Joseph held a large glass of whisky to Clarisse.

She still sat on the floor, one of her shoes had fallen off and her skirt was scrunched up around her. She never moved.

"Clarisse, drink it."

"No."

He sat down next to her sighing. "Well I'm gonna have one." He said deeply.

"Tell me what happened."

He looked at her face, her eyes staring at the floor deadly.

"I can't do that."

"Tell me." She barked suddenly glaring at him.

He took a deep breath. "They never should have left in that weather, the storm, they shouldn't have risked it."

"It's a short trip," She said gently, to herself. "A short trip, we've taken it before, he'll be safe, perfectly safe, perfectly fine…"

"Clarisse." He touched her hand.

"Fine, he'll be fine."

"Clarisse." He said more forcefully.

"Why won't you let me see him?" She snapped. "Why, why are you hiding him from me."

"Come on, drink this." He held the glass to her lips but she knocked it from his hand and itspilt over the lush rug she sat on.

"Why won't you let me see him, you can't keep him from me, he's my son."

"I know my darling."

"Let me see him!"

"I can't do that."

She stiffened, his words registering.

She gasped, holding her head. "He looks so bad I can't see him, my baby… my… he looks…." She was pulling at her hair, pinching her skin with her nails.

"Clarisse stop it." He grabbed her hands. "Clarisse, stop, it's not how I want you to remember him. Not how it should be."

"He's my son!" She was screaming at him, beating herself, sobbing uncontrollably.

"My son, my baby, you have no right…"

He held her again, tightly against him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"You have no right, I want him back, I want you to bring him back."

"I would, I would… I would change it for you. I wish I could my love."

Finally she stopped fighting and let go, she allowed him to hold her, she allowed him to be the strength.

* * *

21:45

Joseph stood by the fireplace, he was exhausted, his body ached and his head was thudding. Clarisse lay on the couch; she'd been there for the past hour, staring at the ceiling. No words had been spoken and the room was heavy with grief and tears, warm with heavy breathing and claustrophobic.

"I want to die." Her voice broke the silence, cracked and weighty.

He lifted his pounding head to look at her.

"The pain is too much, I want to die."

"No, Pierre needs you. We need you."

She closed her eyes. "Demands."

"Who's making demands?"

"Everybody, they'll expect it, me tomorrow telling them we can get through this, that all will be fine. That this country can hold its head up and go on, how can I do that, how can I lie?"

"Don't."

"Easy for you to say, you won't be on television tomorrow holding your head up high, not cracking under the pressure, not showing one ounce of emotion… a chink in the armour." She tossed the words out without considering what she was saying.

"You won't be on television, I won't allow it."

Her eyes drifted over to him.

"You don't have to do anything, speeches, interviews, nothing until you're ready. You can lock yourself up in here and see nobody, if that's what you want."

She glanced away, sighing deeply.

"I don't want to see you."

"I'm not leaving you yet…"

"To hell with you, what do you know, you don't have children… you can't feel what I feel."

"No, I can't." He said gently.

"I feel sick." She sat up abruptly.

He moved forward, standing close enough to help her if she needed it.

"What happens now? Where is my son?"

"I… I don't know, I haven't spoken to anyone in hours. Would you like me to find out?"

"Yes."

He stepped past her heading for the door.

"No, no don't go." She struggled up from the couch, gripping the back as she moved around.

"I… I feel so ill."

Joseph rushed forward and caught her before she fell.

"I need… I feel sick."

"All right, come on." He helped to the bathroom and filled the basin with cold water plunging her hands into it.

"Hold them there."

She was deathly pale and shivering violently. He folded a towel, held it beneath the water then pressed it to her forehead. She jerked back but he placed a hand on her back and held her still. Eventually her eyes closed and the shivering subsided.

"Better?"

"Yes." She murmured.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes."

He helped her up and back to the couch, she collapsed onto it and closed her eyes.

He waited a few minutes, she didn't move, her eyes didn't open. He moved through to the library and used the phone to contact Charlotte. When he returned to the room Clarisse was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Well… and don't sugar-coat it."

"The police are making a report, Philippe's body is… in the mortuary, the archbishop has been to bless him. Shades is in theatre, touch and go at the moment, two others dead. Crash site…"

"Stop, enough, stop."

He nodded and moved to sit in the chair by the fire. He folded his hands in his lap and looked at her, her eyes were closed again, her body twisted on the couch. He saw the tears slipping down her face only this time he didn't try and hold her. He left her to cry alone.

* * *

23:20

"Thank you." Clarisse mumbled as Joseph held the glass to her lips, she sipped a little water then laid back down again, her head spinning too much and too heavy to sit up properly.

He put the glass on the coffee table and leant over her arranging the pillows behind her head.

"You should try and sleep. It's getting late."

"I can't." She said without looking at him.

"I could get the Doctor, he's here, sleeping pills."

"No, I don't want any drugs… attempts to numb the pain."

"A hot drink, something to calm you."

"No, nothing." She turned over burying her face into the cushions, hiding from him.

He knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Clarisse, let me help."

"No! Why won't you leave me alone…" She jerked round to him. "Leave me alone, let me suffer alone, leave!"

"If that's what you want." He got up and collected his jacket from the chair moving to the door, he opened it, stopped, then closed it again.

"Joseph… ?" She said searchingly.

"I'm here."

Her heard her let out a long slow breath and he gave her a minute before going back to her.

"You're exhausted."

She nodded.

"You need to sleep."

"I can't!" She was shouting again. He let her.

"I can't! My mind won't rest, every time I close my eyes it's there, he's there, I can see his face… I can't help him Joseph. I couldn't help him; I want…"

"Shhh…" He took hold of her hands stopping her from hurting herself.

"I want to help him, I'm his mother, it's what I should do. Protection… how can this happen, how…" she was struggling to breathe, her words were caught in her breath, her hands clawing at Joseph's back.

"Shhh, sweetheart, please rest. You'll make yourself ill."

"I wish I were dead, I wish it were me."

"No," he kissed her head. "No, not you… not you."

"Oh Joseph, how can I go on? How can I…" She fell back onto the couch, her energy drained.

"Please try and sleep, please let me get you something."

"No drugs, I said…" Her voice rose again.

Joseph held her hands soothingly. "All right, all right, no drugs. A bath perhaps, will that calm you, a hot bath."

"I can't get up." She closed her eyes. "My head."

"I'm here, I'll help you. Will you let me?" He squeezed her fingers awaiting her reaction. "Will you let me help Clarisse?"

She nodded, only slightly, but it was consent.

* * *

Midnight

For the second time that night Joseph entered Clarisse's private bathroom, the large bath stood in the centre of the room, grand and majestic. He filled it almost to the top, chose one if the bottles of fragrant oils and put a few drops in. He didn't know her favourite, he doubted it mattered.

He found large towels and put them on the chair by the side of the bath, lit the candles that stood about and turned the lights off.

Going back to the lounge Joseph rolled his shirtsleeves up, Clarisse was half sat, half lying on the couch.

"Can you stand?"

She looked up at him absently, uncomprehending.

"Okay, I'm going to help you."

Still she said nothing, looked past him.

He dropped his hand behind her back, the other under her knees and lifted her up. She didn't resist, she was limp in his arms, her own arms hung at her side, she didn't even try to hold onto him.

He put her down on the chair in the bathroom and knelt at her feet, he tenderly rolled her stockings down and took them off. Pulled her shirt free from her skirt and slowly opened each button, she didn't even look at him, she never said a word or even registered his movements. He hesitated at her bra, but it had to be done, he removed it quickly, standing behind her as he did so. Then wrapped a towel around her.

She stood at his insistence and waited as he opened the clasp on her skirt and slid it off. The last of her underwear quickly followed and he helped her step into the bath.

She leant back and closed her eyes, the water rose to her chest. For a second Joseph considered leaving her there to rest alone, then he saw her head fall to the side and he moved to sit behind her, lifting her chin with his finger and hearing her murmur something incomprehensible

He positioned the chair behind her head, found a sponge and began to bathe her neck and shoulders, trailing hot soapy water over her skin.

"Where is my son?" She whispered.

Joseph closed his eyes inwardly sighing, she was delirious again.

"Where is Pierre?"

Oh god Pierre.

"Charlotte is trying to find him, he's been away from camp for a couple of days travelling. We'll get him home."

"Where is God now Joseph?"

He was caught off guard by the question, it seemed to be voiced with perfect logic and yet coming from her it scared him.

"I believe, I pray, I've always done what was asked of me. And yet he takes Philippe away from me, like this, and I can't understand."

"It's not for us to understand, if we try to make sense of it we can't, it's an accident, a terrible tragic mindless accident. We can't make sense of it, we can't change it."

"I can't blame God, is that what you're telling me."

"I wouldn't tell you anything, you believe what you feel is right to believe."

"I blame myself… I'm his mother, I should protect…" Her words cut off as she stifled a sob.

"Shhh, it isn't for you to blame yourself, it's nobody's fault. We've made that trip a hundred times, in weather like this, nobody would expect it…"

She lifted a hand to her face and rubbed her forehead. "I feel so drained, there's nothing left, no feelings, nothing, I'm numb."

"Shock. You should sleep. Let me bathe you."

She dropped her head back, giving him access to her chest, he washed the parts of her body that were visible until she was drifting away into unconsciousness.

When he'd finished he lifted out and dried her, any trace of unease at her being naked disappeared. This was about comfort and companionship, support. He put her dressing gown on as she leant against him, her muscles weak and lifeless, her body refusing to co-operate. She was crying again, openly, if it had shocked him before to see such a display of utter raw emotion from her now it simply devastated him.

He carried her through to the bedroom, laid her in the large bed and dimmed the lights, leaving only a lamp on at the far side of the room. Leaning over her he brushed her damp hair back from her face, and smoothed her tears away, hoping she would be asleep soon.

He stood back up and rubbed his own forehead, not sure how to go on, how was he supposed to deal with this, how best could he help her?

"Don't leave me…" She said gently.

"I won't." He bent and kissed her head then covered her up.

Returning to the bathroom he tidied where they had been before washing his own face in ice-cold water. Perhaps he would order some coffee, he needed to stay awake for her, he wanted to.

He was surprised to find her staring at him when he re-entered the bedroom.

"I thought you would be sleeping."

"I'm hot."

He moved to the bed, "do you want something to drink?"

"No." She tugged the covers down a little.

"Here, take this off." He helped her slip the dressing gown off then covered her back up.

He rested a hand on her forehead, there was no fever, as he pulled back she caught his hand.

"Stay."

"I promised, I'll be here."

She looked at him, her eyes red and sore. "No, stay…"

He took her meaning and sat down on the bed next to her, holding her hand. She lifted her head into his lap and closed her eyes finally allowing sleep to take her.

* * *

02:30

Clarisse sat up suddenly in bed, her chest heaving, her mind racing. She clutched her chest, could feel her heart thumping there, her breath came in short sharp gasps and she felt dizzy as her eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness.

"Joseph…" She gasped. "Joseph…"

"I'm here," He looked up from his chair, he had drifted off. "I'm here."

"I thought you'd left, I thought… I dreamt, nightmares…"

He moved back to the bed attempting to cover her chest where the sheets had slipped down, she shivered in the cool air of the room.

"You promised you'd stay."

"I'm right here, I was right here all the time. Lie back down."

She did as he asked but kept her eyes on his face. "What time is it?"

"2:30."

"Pierre?"

"On a plane, on his way."

"Oh god." She covered her face. "What do I say to him, I don't know, nobody prepares you for this."

He sat down next to her shushing her fears, she would be sick again at this rate.

"He will understand, you'll help each other."

"I don't… I've never been good with easing heartache, look at how I handled things with…" She sobbed, shaking against him. "Oh Philippe's daughter, she must know, people, need to know. I was so wrong, I dealt with it so badly, he loved her, I wanted, the country needed him, selfish, so selfish and heartless and now I don't have the chance to tell him, no right to be here…"

"Clarisse, darling please, please, try and rest, don't think on it all now. Please." He kissed her forehead repeatedly.

"And you, what have I done to you, it should have been me."

"No, rest, lie back, come on…" He eased her back against the pillows, felt the pulse in her throat erratic and rapid. "I'll stay." He lay down next to her.

She grabbed his arm, pressed her face against his chest, crying into his shirt. He held her as best as he could.

"My baby… oh god," She was murmuring against him, he did his best to soothe her but she needed to cry, she needed to mourn.

He closed his eyes, hoping her crying would exhaust her and she'd slip into sleep again soon, this was doing neither of them any good.

He became aware of her fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

"Clarisse." He pulled back.

"Love me."

"No, Clarisse, not like this… stop, you don't want this. Not really."

She had slipped his shirt back and was dragging her nails across his exposed flesh. "Take the pain away. Joseph please."

"I would, oh god help me, I would if I could my love."

He held her face, kissed her forehead again and wiped at her tears.

"Clarisse, let me hold you, sleep."

She fell against him and he wrapped her in his arms, finally she slept again and he allowed exhaustion to take over his body completely.

* * *

05:15

Clarisse woke first, aware of somebody's body next to hers and nothing else. She was warm, she was naked and she could smell… Joseph. The night before rushed back and she caught a sob in her throat, the pain hitting her again fresh and raw.

Tenderly she lifted her head, it was heavy, dull and aching, continually crying had taken its toll. Joseph's hand moved on her waist, at some point during the night he'd slipped beneath the sheets with her.

He opened his eyes taking in her face as she looked down at him. She moved from his arms to lie next to him, on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"Thank you, for being here."

"Of course." She seemed to have regained some of her composure, he sat up a little glancing at his watch.

"I don't think I could have coped, I'm not sure I will. I have to, I suppose."

"You know you have my support."

"Yes." She closed her eyes.

"Are you hungry, would you eat something for me?"

"I'm not sure I'd keep it down."

"Will you try?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. You won't let anybody in will you, I can't face anyone."

"No, I won't." He was prepared for his own dismissal now but she said nothing of it.

"I feel like I'm waking from a dream and it will all be a mistake, I can't envision going on, I can't see tomorrow or next week or… how we will continue to function. Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children, it isn't right, nature's laws have been upset."

He said nothing, what could he possibly reply to that with? He simply listened, after all they'd shared over the years this was the closest he'd ever been to her, the real Clarisse, the first time she'd allowed him to witness it all. No walls, no barriers, she grieved openly in front of him.

She reached over and took his hand, folding her fingers with his; she was still trembling, even now.

"I'm sorry if I said anything," she sighed. "Anything, uncalled for last night."

"You have no need to apologise for anything, you have every right to grieve."

"It isn't your job to deal with that."

"No, it's not my job. But as somebody who's loved you for the last ten years it's my role, I'm here to comfort and support in any way I can."

She turned her head to him; her eyes open wide with shock.

"How can you still love me? Everything I put you through, the terrible things I've said to you."

"How can I not?"

She closed her eyes. "I thought I'd lost you, I tried so hard, to push you away…"

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry, so very sorry Joseph, all these years… oh I've caused you so much pain. I have no right, no right to have you by my side." She turned over to face him, touched his face with shaking fingers. "Nobody has ever been more there for me than you, I need you, I've always needed you and now… I don't think I can't get through."

"Yes you can, you have that inner strength Clarisse."

"I feel my heart is breaking, I feel I'm clinging on just for Pierre, to see him. There's no reason to go on beyond that."

He clasped her hands. "Pierre needs you, this country does, you guide it, you light it. And for me, I need you just as much, I won't ever leave you. Let me help, let me love you…"

She nodded slightly and lifted her mouth to his but he pulled back and instead kissed her hand.

"What do I do, I don't know what to do…" Her eyes filled with tears and she wondered just how she could still cry, there was no energy left.

"You'll find a way. Rest now, nothing is immediate, nobody expects you to face the world today."

"I must arrange the funeral."

"Not yet, not right now…" he brushed the tears away with his thumb, noting the darkness beneath her eyes. "Why don't you try and sleep some more, you've only had a few hours."

She nodded, her fight gone. She rested against him again and within a few minutes slept.

* * *

10:00

Joseph woke Clarisse as the sun streamed through the windows lighting the bedroom. He'd been up a while, had showered and changed and dealt with any issues. As far as the staff knew the Queen was grieving in her rooms and needed time alone, she wasn't to be disturbed. Charlotte arranged for a skeleton staff to take over and sent the rest home to their families, only she was aware of the fact that Joseph hadn't left her majesty's suite all night.

Pierre was another six hours away; statements had been released to the press in the early hours and the country was plunged into mourning when they awoke to the news on television. Within hours the world's media was aware of the tragic accident that had claimed the future King of Genovia's life and the lives of three others. One was still critical.

Clarisse sat up wearily in bed and Joseph handed her a glass of water and two pills. She looked up at him questioningly.

"Aspirin, for your head."

She took them without any more questions.

"How is…"

He held up his hand silencing her. "No questions, no worries on dealing with anything, it's all taken care of."

"Thank you."

She leant her head back and took a deep breath. "I need a shower."

"Okay, do you want me to leave?"

"No, please, don't."

He took her hand. "How do you feel, can you stand?"

"I'm not sure."

He helped her put her dressing gown on and guided her as she shifted to the edge of the bed and dropped her feet to the floor. Gingerly she stood and took a few wobbly steps, Joseph held onto her arm and helped her into the bathroom.

"I feel such a burden." She said absently, clinging to his arm.

"Never." His voice was soft, calming.

He helped her into the shower and sat in the same chair as the night before, waiting for her to finish.

For fifteen minutes they didn't speak, he listened to the sound of the running water, reflected on events and allowed his own tears to fall for the man he cared so deeply for.

"Joseph?" She questioned after a while.

"I'm still here."

"I feel… a little hungry."

He couldn't help but feel grateful. "I'll ring through to the kitchen, order you something."

"I want to eat in my room." She said quickly.

"I know, they can bring it up here."

"I don't want to see…"

"I will accept it, you don't have to see anybody. Anything in particular?"

"Something sweet, pastry, cake, I don't know, sweet… and tea."

"Yes, I'll order it. Are you almost finished?"

"Yes."

"Do you need my help getting out."

"My head is clearing, I should manage, I'll call if, if I need your help."

"I'll be in the lounge."

"Will you stay and eat with me?"

"Of course." He moved to the door.

"Joseph…"

"Yes."

"You won't be far?"

"Just in the lounge."

"Okay, okay…"

He opened the door and went to step out.

"Oh Joseph…"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"You know you don't have to thank me."

"I do, I thank you for being here…"

"I said I always would be. I wouldn't lie to you."

"I know." She said quietly closing her eyes and holding her face beneath the hot water, letting it wash away the previous nights tears.

* * *

_I knew at some point I would have to let Mariah in, forgive me non-fans… _

"Love wandered inside, stronger than you, stronger than I  
And now that it has begun  
We cannot turn back, we can only turn into one  
I won't ever be too far away to feel you  
And I won't hesitate at all whenever you call  
And I'll always remember a part of you so tender  
I'll be the one to catch your fall whenever you call

And I will breathe for you each day  
Comfort you through all the pain  
Gently kiss your fears away  
You can turn to me and cry  
Always understand that I  
Give you all I have inside…

I won't ever be too far away to feel you  
And I won't hesitate at all whenever you call  
And I'll always remember that part of you so tender  
And be the one to catch your fall whenever you call"


	16. part 16

_So the word is goodbye, makes no difference how the tears are cried, it's over…_

Part 16

State funerals, as sad as they were, at their heart were grand occasions. Families from across Europe descended on Genovia for two days, unlike King Rupert's funeral, only five years before, for Philippe the sun shone as brightly as if God himself had positioned it directly over the tiny country.

Clarisse emerged from her suite two days after the accident, her public demeanour fully in place, her personal pain buried deep within her. She organised each aspect of the funeral, Joseph thought she would have licked the stamps on the envelopes if Charlotte had allowed her too. Anything at all to take her mind from the loss.

Pierre was inconsolable, and spent much of his time walking the grounds, whatever the weather. Joseph joined him a few times but he sought solitude, he seemed to be in conference with God as much as himself, battling the unease within his own mind. As a man of the church he was the one expected to be calm in a tragedy, it seemed to Joseph he was, but that didn't restrain his own hurt. He, like Clarisse, hid away in times of pain, buried his emotions from the outside world and pressed on as best he could. Only those who knew him well could understand the extent of his hurt.

During the days before and directly after the funeral Joseph kept his distance from Clarisse. She was afterall the ruling monarch now and, as she'd predicted, everyone wanted her attention. She gave no interviews, granted no press intrusion, but the family needed her just as much and she didn't let them down. It was usually late in the evening when she would ask for him, a message from Charlotte or a warning on his pager and he went to her suite. Often she just wanted him to sit with her, there would be no words, just sitting in silence until she fell asleep on his arm and he would take her to bed and return to his own room.

A week after the funeral, and two since Philippe's death, and they were still performing this routine. Clarisse had taken a walk after dinner with Pierre, decisions would have to be made soon on the future, as harsh as it seemed. Parliament needed guidance, the country needed a ruler, a future they could look to. Clarisse had to deal with that. Joseph watched from the balcony as she walked with her eldest son, holding his arm, they stopped by the fountain and sat down on its edge. He watched as Pierre began to weep for his younger brother, the first time he'd ever done it openly since his return, and Clarisse cradled his head in her lap.

A little while after she walked back alone, leaving Pierre to continue his turn around the moonlit grounds. She passed directly by Joseph and discreetly brushed his hand with her own. He understood her meaning and fifteen minutes later met her in her suite.

She was sitting on the couch waiting for him and turned her head slightly to regard him as he closed the door.

"Hello." She said gently.

"Hi. How are you?"

"Getting there, slowly. Come sit."

He did as she asked and positioned himself next to her on the couch.

"Would you like some Tea?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Not especially, I sense you have news."

"Too many years reading my mind Joseph… Pierre and I have reached a decision."

"Oh…"

"Regarding the future. We, well I, am going to visit my grand daughter."

He looked towards her startled, the girl hadn't been mentioned in many years.

"I know it seems abrupt, but the fact is if I don't act soon and secure the throne… the vultures are already circling, even at a time like this."

He had to admire her clear thinking, and the poise with which she held herself, he could scarcely remember that broken desperate woman who had ranted and screamed the night of her son's death.

"I know she's only 15, and we always planned to wait until her 18th birthday but I just can't anymore… she doesn't have to rule, not immediately, we can wait until her 21st and then…"

"You've certainly thought this through." He said directly.

"I have no choice Joseph."

"What if she doesn't want it? Had you considered that?"

Her face paled and she stared at him for a few seconds. "If she doesn't accept… then I don't know what will happen, I can't rule you know that, I don't have that right. She can. I must make her see that it's for the best."

"Hang on, you can't push her Clarisse."

She held her breath, turning to him, lifting her voice in protest. "I wouldn't do that!"

He held her stare, a slight smile on his face.

"Oh all right," she shook her head. "I will try not to push… too hard."

"If you back her into a corner, she is only a child."

"She has to grow up, and quickly, my sons did…"

"Clarisse," he reached for her hand. "She isn't from this environment, she hasn't dealt with this her entire life, she wasn't brought up to this. Duty bound."

She snatched her hand back. "Don't say that, duty bound, like it's a curse."

"It can be, at times."

"Please don't bring _us_ up now."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He sat forward and poured the tea.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say about 'us'."

"And I'm not sure if you want an 'us'."

"Of course… after everything, haven't the past weeks shown you how much I need you."

He nodded quietly reflecting on the closeness that had developed between them once again.

"But you have done this before, and I can't keep coming and going from your life Clarisse."

"I…" she caught her words. "I can't do this now. There's too much, happening, too much…"

"I know, I know, you're still grieving, yet you want to rush off to god knows where."

"San Francisco."

"To meet a stranger."

"She's been a stranger for too long… Joseph." She put her teacup down. "Joseph, I know this all seems too much too soon but I have no choice. And I want you there, I need your support."

"Of course your majesty."

She glared at him.

"Yes, Clarisse. It's going to take some organisation. I'd be happier if we waited a few months."

"Three months!"

"My dear, please, give it a little time a least."

She bit her lip and sighed then nodded her head reluctantly. "Yes, okay, it seems you are right… as usual."

She leant back on the couch. "As for us. You know I, I couldn't have made it this far without you, you've helped me so much, given me so much… as usual." She dipped her head, gazing at her hands, almost ashamed of what she was saying. "I want you in my life, I need you, as more than just…"

"And I need to be sure it's real. That I won't be relegated again."

She took a deep breath, "I've missed you so very much."

"I've missed you too." He held his breath, scared the spell would break. "But my feelings for you always seem to cause me pain, somewhere along the line."

"I don't want that, I never have."

"I know."

"I want to do this, I want you as part of my life."

"Clarisse…"

She interrupted him. "…But it has to be slowly."

"I know. I understand that." He whispered. "But Clarisse, please, you must promise, don't push me away again, I couldn't bear it again."

She reached for his hand and folded her fingers with his. "Stay with me, until I fall asleep."

He smiled accepting the fact she couldn't answer out loud. "Of course, how are the dreams?"

"They seem to have stopped, for now at least."

"Good," he kissed her hand. "Good."

* * *

Joseph closed the bedroom door behind him as gently as he possibly could before crossing the lounge and collecting his jacket from the chair he'd left it in. It was late, almost 2:30, he must have fallen to sleep aswell, it was difficult not to when he was holding her in that large comfortable bed.

"Hello Joseph."

He spun round at the sound of the man's voice.

"Pierre."

"How is mother?" His words were gentle, not accusing, no malice or anger, just acceptance.

"Sleeping."

"Good. Thank you for staying with her."

He was confused. "Pierre, I'm sorry, there is nothing…"

"I've known for years that you are in love with her, it's plain to see. Philippe and I both knew."

"You never said?"

"You know mother, feelings are not to be spoken of or dissected." He sat on the couch where Joseph had been with Clarisse earlier.

"Will you sit with me a moment?"

"Of course." Replacing his jacket on the arm of the chairhe sat down watching the young man closely.

For several minutes Pierre stared into the fire, silence crowded into the room and it felt so heavy Joseph wanted to reach out and choke it. How did you explain so many years of deception and fakeness? How did you explain being in love with somebody you had no right to be in love with?

"I never imagined something so terrible could happen."

"Oh my dear boy, I wish I knew words that would offer you some kind of comfort, the truth is I'm not sure I can say anything that would."

"Your honesty helps Joseph, everyone else, well the usual condolences. Perhaps that's why mother feels she can talk to you." He glanced up at the older man, watched as he leant back in the chair folding his hands.

"I'm sorry for that too."

"You don't have to be. How long have you loved her?"

"Honestly."

"Of course."

"Twenty-one years, give or take a few months."

Pierre breathed deeply. "So long, how do you do it, I mean have you two – an affair?"

"No, no never that. In the beginning we were simply friends, it seemed we shared so many common interests and we just… she just wanted to talk. It grew into more."

"But for so long."

"I'm not saying it's been easy, we fought each other… well it hasn't been easy."

"And yet you stayed."

Joseph nodded, as much as he loved Pierre there were some feelings that were private, his relationship with Clarisse – all its intricacies and nuances – the soul of it was private.

"It wasn't easy to stay, it seemed ever harder to leave." He leant forward. "You must believe me when I say that this never affected her relationship with your father, or with either you or Philippe, you have always been her priority."

"I know. Thank you for being with her, that night when Phil… when he died, I can't imagine how she would have handled it alone."

Joseph bowed his head; there were no words to say.

"I'm not sure I could have done it, how do you nurse a mother through the death of a son?"

"You're a strong man Pierre; you get that from your mother. And you will make it through this. The both of you."

"Has she told you of her plans?"

"Yes."

"You don't approve."

Joseph shrugged. "I think perhaps it's a little too soon but it's what she wants, I don't know, perhaps it will help. It's a big step, this girl has just lost her father, a father she never met, and now she's about to have something like this handed to her…"

"A burden. I of all people know what a burden it is." He looked over to Joseph sincerely. "Mother wishes to go alone, has convinced me to return to the church."

Joe understood the implications of his words. "I'll be there for her."

"Thank you. I feel I've failed in some way; perhaps I've always failed them… I couldn't be King, it isn't in me, I wanted a quiet holy life."

"Nobody thinks you've failed, you have your own responsibility, you've shirked nothing. Your duty is to God not solely to your country. Your mother loves you, never doubt that. She is proud of you."

"Yes." He nodded, looked down at the carpet. "There's more to you than I ever thought Joseph, you're an incredible man."

"I'm not sure I deserve that but thank you, I think the same of you."

Steadily he rose and collected his jacket, placing his hand on Pierre's shoulder. "Goodnight. Do try and sleep."

"I will, thank you Joseph, for all you do."

Those simple words were enough to convince Joseph that he had Pierre's blessing. He slept well for the first time in weeks.

* * *

Clarisse closed her eyes and lifted her face to the worship of the summer sun. It coated her face in its sheen and she relaxed beneath its gentle touch. Tomorrow she would leave for San Francisco and the world was likely to change. She hoped for the better.

The past three months had been a blur of planning and consultation with parliament. She could remain ruler until Amelia, as her grand daughter was named, was eligible and old enough to rule. In print at least it seemed straight forward, the fact that Amelia didn't even know she was in-line for the throne was but a mere hiccup. Clarisse was adamant that the girl would accept the role, would welcome it and not hesitate to learn the ways of such a wonderful country. Afterall there was much to learn. And Clarisse was eager to teach.

She stepped back from the balcony, it was far too hot to stand there enjoying the mid-day sunlight, black didn't help to cool her neither. It seemed she'd worn black from the day Rupert died and she had no reason to stop now.

The coolness of her air-conditioned office was divine and she took a moment to simply sit on the couch and enjoy it sweeping over her. She really must contact Charlotte and go over the final details. She also had to place a number of phone calls, not least of all to Pierre who had left the Palace over a month ago after Clarisse's reassurances that she was fine. Her grief hadn't diminished and time hadn't dampened its sharpness but somehow she'd found a way to conceal it, to function through it.

"Come." She called at the gentle tap on the door.

Charlotte entered the room and noting her Queen sat back on the couch relaxed and at ease she regretted her timing. "Oh I'm sorry to interrupt your majesty."

"Don't be, something important?"

"Just a revised itinerary for tomorrow, Joseph and I have finally ironed out the problems."

"Good thank you." She took the offered folder. "I will look through it."

"Is there anything else ma'am?"

"No Charlotte I think you are more than on top of the situation. Thank you." She smiled and slowly stood. "You have worked incredibly hard on this my dear, I'm so glad you'll be accompanying me on this trip."

"Thank you your majesty."

A polite cough behind the young woman caused Clarisse to smile; she sensed he was there even before he entered the room.

Charlotte discreetly exited and Joseph closed the door behind him. "Have you had a chance to look over the final arrangements?"

"I just received it and was about to."

"Ahh, good." He said watching her sit at her desk and slide her glasses on.

She glanced over at him, he looked… well anxious. "Is everything all right Joseph?"

"I believe so, are you… prepared?"

"As I'll ever be." She removed her glasses again. "Truth be told I am feeling a little anxious myself."

"To be expected." He sat across from her. "Clarisse we could postpone this…"

"No absolutely not," her voice softened. "I must do this Joseph."

He nodded and held his hand across the desk to her. She accepted the gesture and folded her fingers with his. Staring at their entwined hands she remembered the first time he ever held her hand as an offer of comfort. How their relationship had forged and bonded then and there, how it had been battered over the years, how many times they'd come so close to losing it yet always found their way back to each other.

"I was thinking, just how long you've been my confidant, how many times I've turned to you for advice and support. You never fail to give it."

"I never would."

"Thank you for being so patient." She said gently, her words implying so much.

"And I will continue to be so, until you're ready to move forward, until then we have this."

"Our friendship, sometimes I wonder how it survived so much, you've remained with me through so much… all the pain, all the doubts, all the times I've pushed you away."

"Shhh," he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. "Let's not dwell on what has been. We have a future to look too, a wonderful young lady to meet…"

She smiled warmly. "Then let the adventure begin."


End file.
